Arcadian Rhythms
by D3stiny-Sm4sher
Summary: "Everything can be hacked. And everyone." - "You should be smiling, too. Aren't you excited? Aren't you happy? You're going to be free." - Multi-fandom modern AU supernatural crime drama story. Inspired by 'The Wolf Among Us,' 'Stranger Things,' 'Mr. Robot.' - Horizon: Zero Dawn, Undertale, Overwatch, Life is Strange, Night in the Woods, Oxenfree, VA-11 HALL-A, Pyre, and more.
1. Episode 1

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)

**Episode 1**

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\  
**

**Author's Note: Thanks for giving this story a try! Please keep in mind, this fic is designed to be read in PDF format, or at least on AO3. Since FF doesn't allow links, I can't properly show you this, BUT you can visit arcadian-rhythms at Tumblr and find a download on the 'Links' section, including a link to the interactive side-story 'Red Wheelbarrow.'  
**

**Season 1 of Arcadian Rhythms will avoid specifically giving away any major story beats from any of the source materials, but Season 2 and onward will deliberately be referencing end-game plot details of many of the games being represented.**

**This story, however, can be approached much like the Netflix Marvel shows – you can not be familiar with any of the characters' original source materials and still follow along, as this is entirely adaptation into a new story (an 'alternate universe'). On the other hand, familiarity with certain characters or plot devices could flavor your experience differently. That being said, you could potentially enter this story as if it were an original work and still be given what plot details you need when you need them.**

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

Lights. Bright lights. Colorful dots. So many colors. Floating in the black. In the dark.  
All the lights below.  
Reflection of above, the sky – many small lights in the dark.  
Disconnected but together. Same place.

SAME SKY.

They all floated in the same sky.

It was cold, though.  
Very cold up on the roof.  
Pigeons fluttering, flapping, chaotic mess of noise.  
Whispers and murmurs from below – from above.  
A mess. Everyone, everything, a mess.  
But this was the best place to see it all from. Hear it all from.  
To see both sides – over, and under, above and below, the lights in the dark.

'**Arcadia**.'  
That was what this place was called.  
It was the place Frisk knew. The only place.  
It was home, but did not feel like home.  
And yet, even when given the chance to leave, they had chosen not to.  
They'd chosen to stay.  
Every day, being called to leave.  
Every day, choosing to stay.

Everyone was staying, even the ones being called to leave.  
They could not choose.

But Frisk could.

It was very tiring.  
Frisk was very tired.

A jingle played from their pocket. They picked up their phone. It trembled in their palm.  
A stiff wind whispered to them. So many voices.  
They had to ignore the voices again.

They checked their phone, their fingers slow and numb from the winter's night air.

It was a message from their best friend.

( Howdy! )-  
( :) )- A smiley face.

They replied.

-( :( ) A sad face.

They didn't feel very happy.  
Not after what had just happened. After what had un-happened.

Their phone shook some more, a ringtone playing.  
Their best friend was trying to call them.  
But they didn't know what to say.  
They didn't want to talk to him.

So they listened to the ringtone, remembering things they didn't remember.  
Missing someone they didn't remember, remembering someone they missed.  
Regretting something they hadn't done.  
Remembering something they regretted.  
Missing someone they didn't know.  
Knowing something they didn't remember.  
It all hurt.

Their phone kept ringing. They tried to ignore it.  
But pa̷r͢t͢ of ͞th̶e̸m could not.  
They answered it.  
And he spoke to them.

[ "You think you're really smart, don't you?" ]

They shook their head at his words and frowned.  
Even though it was a phone call, they knew he could see them.  
He could always see them.

[ "In this town, it's **kill** or **be killed**." ]

They shook their head again, even more this time.  
They felt a bad th̶i͘n͢ģ in their throat. In their stomach. They swallowed it down.

[ "So you're able to play by your own rules. You spared the life of a single person." ]

Their eyes began to burn. They could still remember what hadn't happened.

[ "Hee hee hee. . .But don't act so cocky." ]

Their fingers clenched into a fist, their hands trembled.  
The phone quivered in their grip.

[ "I **know** what you did. You murdered her." ]

_'.̸ ͢. ̢.͘a͢t͢ ͡my mos̷t͢ vuln̵er̷ąble m̶o͢ment́.͟ ̀.͝ ͢.͢' _

Tears dripped down their cheeks, freezing against their skin.  
Remembering things they couldn't remember hurt so much.

_'̵Eh͟e҉he͡h͠eh̷!̵!̕ ͞You ̨re͘al̕l̛y a͢re n͝o di̡ff̶erent͟ th͢aǹ the͏m!̵'͞ _

She'd leaked all over the floor.  
They'd leaked all over their face.  
Smiling face.  
Crying face.

[ "And then you went back, because you regretted it." ]

They sniffled and rubbed a shaking hand at their nose, at their eyes, trying to keep it from leaking. **T͠he͟m̨ **from leaking. Trying to stop it all from leaking out. Spilling everywhere.  
With all the voices.

[ "**Ha. **You naive idiot. _**Do you think you are the only one with that power?**_" ]

They let the phone hang to their side. But he turned the volume up. He would not be quiet.  
They wanted him to be quiet.  
But pa̵r͟t of t͠h̨em͝ wanted him to never go away.  
P̕a͘rt of t̡hem͘ needed him.  
P̨art͡ ǫf͡ th͏e͜m̀ needed -

[ "The power to reshape this place?! Purely by your own determination?!" ]

They covered their eyes with their damp, sticky sleeve, slick with their own tears and snot.  
They couldn't _not _listen to him when he spoke.  
But everything hurt when he spoke.

[ "Apparently YOUR desires for this town override MINE." ]

They tried to end the call. Turn off their phone.  
But he stayed powered on. He wouldn't let them leave.  
Their phone's screen flickered and flashed his face, messy and moving, changing so much, so quickly, mixing with Mother's face. Cut in half.

[ "But you can't change who you are, pal. You're like me. You're still one of us." ]

With a shuddering whimper, they shook their head.  
With a stifling cough, th͟ey nodded their head.

[ "So enjoy that power while you can. I'll be watching." ]

He laughed at them. A strange laugh of many voices. It made their skin feel weird.  
And their phone suddenly turned off.  
Free from his grip, they dropped the phone to the hard floor of the roof.  
Everything was shaking, but standing still.  
The door behind them opened.

"What are you doing out here, my child?"  
Mother's voice.

The child scrambled to pick their phone back up.  
The screen was cracked now.  
They marveled at their own reflection in the cracked moonlight.  
Re͢fle͏cţi͜o̕ǹ – smiling back at themselves through the broken glass.

They hid the phone in their coat as Mother approached.

Those gentle, big hands squeezed over the child's shoulders.

Mother sighed out a cloud of steam into the night air. The back of her wrist was hot against the child's cold cheek.

"You'll fall ill in this cold," she lamented, her eyes glazing over. Through blurred vision, the child could see their own reflection across both eyes. "Oh." She noticed they'd been crying.

The child leaned their face against Mother's hand and wiped their eyes dry. Mother sighed and rotated the child into a hug. The child's numb nose burned against the warm, fuzzy sweater she wore. Even through their runny nose, the scents of butterscotch and cinnamon were calming. Mother had been baking when the argument had happened.

"Ah, you poor thing," she said. "I did not mean to upset you so. I'm just trying to keep you safe."

The child nodded and sighed, whimpered, coughed, hugged.

"Come, my child. Stay with me – inside, where it's warm. You should get your rest."

Their insides in tangles, the child nodded with a sniffle. Rest sounded good. Warm sounded nice.

Mother took the child by the hand – such a soft but sturdy hand – and she guided them back to the stairwell leading to their little home.

The wind's many voices whispering from beyond faded away once the child was inside.

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

"You sure, question mark?" she spoke into her voice-to-text.

He replied instantly, as expected.

( We'll be in town next week for that training exercise, anyway. )-  
( It'll be no trouble. )-

She sighed with uncertainty. Given everything that had happened since her transfer back to Arcadia, she was still a little wary about seeing old faces again. Everything that had happened on her previous assignment felt like another life.

Fluttering her lips at her phone through a sigh, she ran her hand through her wavy hair, a tangle a copper wiring. She rocked impatiently on her boot-heels as she contemplated. She grumbled under her breath to herself, "Better not have any smart ideas. . ." Clearing her throat, she repled to his text, "All right, comma, just let me know when you're in town, period."

She lingered at what she'd entered for a moment, sipping at her coffee.

She added to the message before sending it.

"Can I bring company, question mark?"

Her thumb hovered over the ( Send ) button for a second before going through with it.  
Again, a near instant reply.

( Of course! We want to meet this partner of yours. )-

As she formulated a response, she was interrupted by her phone flashing a prompt.

"Speaking of. . ." she murmured to herself, a warm smirk squirming on her face at the photo that popped up on her screen.

It was her partner.

Break time was over.

She switched on her earpiece – a custom-made bluetooth she'd received from her mother as a gift a while back. A curious thing for a mother to give her child, but...then again, her mother was obviously not in her mind mind anymore. Regardless, it had proved a useful gift, as Aloy used it every day, and it continued to function without issue. She cleared her throat out and put her work face back on.

"I'm here," she confirmed, tucking her phone away.

Her keen eyes, sharp and astute, surveyed the cityscape at rush hour. The masses were on their exodus home, like a herd of beasts migrating a concrete forest.

[ "In position?" ] came her partner's voice, directly into her ear.

"Yea."

[ "See anything?" ]

At this inquiry, Aloy widened her gaze, scanning the urban sprawl more thoroughly than she had been.

"Uhhh, nope," she replied flatly, ruffling her coat's collar against the winter chill. "Why?"

[ "You sure?" ] double-checked the voice in her earpiece. [ "Only I just saw the sneaky buggers roundin' the corner, headed up Main toward 13th." ]

She checked the street signs that were posted up nearby, taking a sip from her paper coffee cup.

{MAIN st}  
{13th STREET}

Hm.

Her eagle eyes scanned the crossroads again whilst draining another lukewarm sip of extra-creamy coffee. She spotted an individual that _sort _of matched who they were tracking, but-...Nah, wasn't them.

"It's a pair of them, isn't it?" she said, ensuring she was on the lookout for the right duo. "Tall one, short one, right? Hoodies?"

[ "Right." ]  
Aloy couldn't help but find her partner's accent to be cute. _'Roit.' _Ha.  
Did that make her an ass for thinking that?  
Or maybe an _'arse?'_  
[ "Clobbered up Los Muertos attire, bandannas n' all." ]

Aloy puffed out a long breath as she gazed across her environs again. No one matching that description. And she'd gotten pretty keen on picking her targets out of a crowd.

"I've got nothing, Lena," she said disparagingly.  
They could _not _mess this one up. Not after everything else that week.

[ "Really? Swear on me mum's-..._Whoa, _wait. _Hold _up." ]

"What?" She gulped the last of her drink down.

[ "No, no, _what?! _How...-?" ]

"What is it?" She tossed the empty cup into the trash bin on the street's corner, deftly dodging a mother and her baby carriage.

[ "How in the _bloody _hell did they...-?" ]

"Lena," Aloy sighed, watching a small crowd cross the street. "You trace them yet, or what?"

[ "_Thought _I had! Blighters gave me the slip, they're_-...Argh." _] Lena seemed _really _perturbed about this. Then again, she was good at her job. It was pretty irritating to feel subpar at something you _knew _you were good at, wasn't it? Quite a familiar feeling...

"Gonna need a _direction _here," Aloy groaned warily, her legs bursting with energy to spring into action. If they lost these clowns _again_...-

[ "Trying, trying, they-..._Damn, _they're a cheeky lot. Have a _kid _with 'em, too." ]

"_Directions, _Lena."

[ "R-right! Sorry, A. Should beeee..._left. _South." ]  
Aloy kicked those legs up a gear into a brisk walk.  
[ "Headed up 14th now." ]

"Wait. You said they have a _kid _with them?"  
She could feel her heart starting to escalate, each pounding of her foot against the cement sidewalk like a clock hand ticking toward an impending alarm.

[ "Yea! A _kid!_ Take a right." ]

"Like, a hostage, or...-?"

Red hand, blinking at the crossing light, counting down to zero.

She cut her own sentence off, squeezing and shoving her way across the street, nearly bumping into a taxi to eke by. She reached the other side just after the crosswalk timer hit 'zero.'  
Class act police-work here, _ugh._

[ "Doesn't _look _like a hostage, no. Keep going up 14th." ]

"Collateral? Maybe some kind of-_Uhff_!" She got T-boned by some burly businessman who just kept rolling on by. Were she in _uniform, _no way that crap would've happened. Then again, were she in uniform, her quarry would notice her _much _more readily.

[ "You're _losin' 'em, _Nora." ]

"_Yep,_" Aloy grunted, well aware, recovering her faltered step and quickening her pace.

She wasn't going to let them get away this time. Once she had them in her sights...-

[ "Make a right up here. Trinen Ave." ]

"Got it."

Her heart was really getting into gear now. It felt good. Her body was finding its rhythm amidst the concrete jungle. Arcadia had been quite a leap from what she'd gotten used to in her previous post in Meridian. Here she was though, back home in the big city, but she'd taken a demotion, falling down to her old rank. So, 'quite a leap,' but _backwards._ It should've felt forward after what she'd accomplished in her previous assignment. But...-

Damnit. She couldn't let her mind wander. Not now, not when she was close to making a breakthrough.

She needed this. They both did.

As her partner traced a path over comms, she followed, gaining bit by bit. Chasing down her prey had always been easier back in Meridian – thinner crowds, smaller city – but she was making due here.

She wasn't used to letting her prey escape, but the past week or two had taken her ego down a couple pegs. Wading through the stream of pedestrians wasn't wearing her out, though. Rather, it was pumping her adrenaline up.

[ "Hold up a tick. They've stopped." ]

She slowed her advance, her eyes frantically darting for her target to no avail as she caught her breath.

"Where?" she hissed irritably.

[ "Uhh-...Saw 'em pass down the alleyway to yourrr...right. But...-" ] An impatient grunt. [ "Haven't seen 'em come out the other end yet." ]

"Got it," Aloy replied, sidling up to the residential corner on her right.

[ "Watch yourself, A. Dunno who else might be down there." ]

She drew her handgun from her hip holster quietly and carefully, pinning herself against the cold brick wall leading to the alley.

Calm.

There was always that moment of calm before things happened. And things happened so quickly. But everything they taught you, all the training and what-not, it never prepared you for that _calm. _You had to steady yourself. Nerves of steel, right? Slow your breathing, still your limbs, loosen your grip, yet be ready to act in a split-second.

Fortunately, she was good at this part. _And _the moment that came after.

She peeked the edge of her head around the brick wall corner, just for a split-second, then pulled back.

No one there.

That wasn't right. They _had _to be there, she would've heard something, surely.

"Lena," she barked in a whisper. "Have they left yet?"

[ "Mmm...Nah, haven't seen movement, lost eyes on 'em. Haven't come out." ]

She peeked again.

A figure?

In the split second it took to confirm this, she whirled around the brick corner, aimed her handgun, and took aim for the figure's leg. This all happened in a focused micro-moment she had trained herself to execute, like a machine.

"Hold it!" she barked, "A.P.D.!"

But just as she went to dig up her badge from her coat, her heart skipped a beat.

It wasn't some Los Muertos flunky in front of her, it was...someone else entirely. Some punk with their hair dyed an eye-burning shade of...seafoam green? Teal? Just _standing _there, hands in the pockets of their over-sized red jacket, just _gawking _aimlessly_. _The person was right in the center of the alleyway, down a stretch.

Maybe this was that kid Lena had mentioned? Mm. No, this stranger looked a bit too old to be a 'kid,' but they weren't dressed in Los Muertos gang threads, either. Maybe the other party involved in the deal, taking too long to flee the scene?

Either way, Officer Nora didn't lower her weapon. For all she knew, this stranger could still be an Los Muertos member. Or helping them, at least. Maybe being a distraction while the targets escaped?

_Fuck. _That meant she'd already lost the bastards.

"Where did they go?" she asked this stranger, inching her way toward them, handgun still pointed steadily at the leg. "Huh? Two punks in hoodies and a kid. Just ran by. I _know _you saw them."

As she approached, it was..._weird, _her vision was getting foggy. Blurry? She blinked, but the stranger in front of her didn't get any clearer. Almost like they were a ghost, or...-?

The stranger with the bright ponytail tilted their head slightly, gazing around the alleyway curiously. They appeared as confused as Aloy was.

"_Hey_!" snapped Officer Nora, fingers cautiously clenched on her gun. She sped up her approach as her head began to throb. "Did you hear me? I'm with the A.P.D., and I asked you a _question._"

The stranger appeared to be a Latina female, early 20's. Red letter jacket with a white top and torn jeans. The stranger flicked her teal ponytail behind her shoulder, rejoining gazes with the officer before her. The stranger's auburn brows furrowed thoughtfully as she lifted a hand out of her oversized jacket pocket and pointed at the officer approaching her.

Lips moved, but the stranger's voice came exclusively out of the officer's earpiece, garbled and static-ridden. It spoke the officer's name.

[ͩ̿ͤ͟".̆̎ͩ̈́̆̏͐̕.̢͌.ͨͧͦ̅́**A̽̃l̂͆̆ͬ͂őͧy̢̍**?̈̃̒"̈͗̈́ͭ͛҉]̆̔͜

"What...-?" Aloy's chest tightened, her balance thrown off.

[̷ͬͬ"ͩA̷͂͆ͥ͐ͧ͗̇l͏o̎ͮ̑̈́y! It _is _you!.̀̇ͧ̔̽ ̄̒ͨͥͦͨ̚҉]

How in the _hell _did this weird person know her name? But the stranger's body wretched and lurched suddenly, her words slowing to a painful and unnatural crawl.

[͂̍ͮ -̅i̍́̈̿ͯ͛s͐ͧͯ̾͐̉-ͯ̃͊̄͆ ]

How was she speaking through Aloy's ear piece? Some kind of digital distraction?  
It wasn't normal speech. More like fragments, like radio stations being scrolled through.

[̽"̿ͨ̓̀-̧͒̈ļ͂e̡ͬ̉ͤ̐ǻ̷̎v̈́̽eͩ̌̃̒ͫ̋͏-̇̃͂̉ͨ̾"̉]̴ͨͪ

Aloy was close enough now to realize that this woman...wasn't actually _there. _It was like...some kind of illusion. Maybe a hologram? Didn't even make sense - where was the projector? And why leave such an elaborate distraction abandoned in some old alley?

["̈́-̍̾̎̾ͨ̍̑p̄̈̈̓ǫͨ̃̅̃s͆š̍̌ǐ̷̊͌̃ͩb̍ͥ͒l͛͟eͤͩ̅-̵ͦ̈"̢̾]ͤ̈́̒̐͋

Whatever it was, it wasn't physically present, yet it certainly seemed able to tell that Aloy was there, rotating its gaze as Aloy circled it with studious caution. There _wasn't _a projector. It was just...some hologram? Made from nothing? Was Aloy hallucinating? She extended her hand to try and touch it, and it took a step back to avoid her hand, arms clutched at its waist, as if it were in pain.

_[̀ "̧N͝o̶r͜a͘.̷!" ]_

Aloy's head was suddenly pierced with a sharp pain, like an arrow cleanly shot through both ears. The spike of pain was so intense and sudden, it caused her to crumple against a dumpster to her side. Her right ear – where her bluetooth piece hung – was _burning. _She tore off her earpiece in desperation, and the pressure began to release.

[ "_Aloy!_" ] It was Lena's voice, coming faintly from the comms device in her hand. [ "Can ya _hear _me?!" ]

"Lena..." Aloy choked out, lifting the device to her mouth. Trying to gaze up, she realized that the mysterious figure was gone, without any trace.

[ "What're ya _doing?! _They're getting away!" ]

"I-...I, uh...-" Aloy was on her knees, dazed. The pain was gone, at least, so she fumbled her earpiece back on. She coughed spit into the sidewalk, struggling to regain her breath. "..._Gugh-..." _Her spit, she noticed, had traces of pink in it. Wiping her lip with her wrist, she saw droplets of blood.

[ "You all right, Luv?! You need backup?!" ] The concern, and the place it came from, sparked Aloy's chest with fire. Enough to push her onto her feet, at least.

"Got...-" More sputtering. _"Ugh. Lost_ 'em, Lena."

[ "They attack you? D'you need-?" ]

"No, no, I'm fine," she wheezed. "OK. I'm OK. _Listen. _Listen."  
[ "You don't _sound _bloody OK to me! Shall I-?" ]  
"You have visual on 'em?!" Aloy groaned, stumbling for balance against the brick wall beside her.

A grunt and a puff from the other side of the call. Aloy could hear a pound.

[ "...Aw, _rubbish._Lost 'em. We _lost _'em!_ Unbelievable!_" ]

"_Pff._" Aloy still couldn't get over how cute it was to hear Lena so flustered. But reality caught up with her. "Did we _seriously _fuck this up _again_?" she groaned quietly, palm over her forehead.

[ "Bloody _hell_. Amari'll have our arses, for sure." ]

After savoring that sweet moment of how uncharacteristically crude Lena's language had gotten – was Aloy's anger rubbing off on her? – Aloy leaned forward, hands braced on her hips, and exhaled tiredly.

"Yea," she acknowledged dryly. "Yea, she will."

[ "How did they _do it_?" ] Lena growled. [ "'S like they were_-...Argh. _There one tick, right vanished the next. Only I thought I_-...Grrgh._" ]

"You think they...-?" Aloy coughed roughly, clearing her throat as she regained her balance. "Did they hack the street cams, maybe?"

[ "_Uhm,_ w-well, _possible, _but usually I'll catch that. Either way, musta tricked my-..." ] She sniffed, then sighed. [ "Well, tricked my surveillance, suppose, either way. In real time. _Swear _I saw 'em go one way, only they…_didn't._" ]

Aloy rubbed at her temples, the sting of that bizarre shock still echoing through her whole skeleton.

"You think they had help?" she wondered, staring at the space that odd illusion of a person had been standing at. "Maybe the Sheikah? They've been spreading their net wide this past month..."

[ "_Nahhh_, you still on about that? The _Sheikah? _Lookin' out for Los Muertos lackeys? Not really their modus operandi, is it?" ]

Aloy sighed and nodded, clearing her throat. Hearing Lena say 'modus operandi' was itself a charming distraction. But, _argh. _The job.

"No," Aloy acknowledged tartly. "It's not. I just-...I don't _get _it, I didn't even see a _deal _go down. And you said they had a _kid _with them? Like...a _kid _kid?"

[ "Proper child, yea. Ten? Twelve? Short, little one." ]

So. Definitely _not_ what Aloy had seen.

"Then what the hell were they doing that needed extra protection? What could they have been smuggling that...-?"

Aloy's head jostled with a puzzling question that threaded through the needle of her suspicions

[ "Wouldn't have been so _open _about it if it they were carrying, would they?" ] Lena mused. [ "'S like they _wanted _to be seen." ]

"The child," Aloy posed. "They were transporting the _child_."

[ "...Oh. _Oh, _no. I mean, I _suppose _that-...No-no, that's...-" ] Lena sucked in an uncomfortable breath. [ "What for, you thinkin'?" ]

"Nothing good," Aloy decided, wiping her own saliva from her jacket. The blood was gone, to her relief. Still a bit worrying, though. She huffed, letting their conversation fizzle out as she ran circles around what little she knew.

Her comms beeped, and a gravel-edged voice beckoned them. She took the call.

[ "Oxton. Nora. Report." ]

[ "Captain," ] Lena eked, masking her embarrassment.

Still catching her breath, Aloy smacked her palm with frustration against the frost-slick brick wall. Might as well have been metaphor for her whole damned week.

"Sorry, Ma'am," Aloy pushed out the words in a half-cough, steam billowing from her lips into the winter air. "Lost them. Again," she added bitterly, under her breath.

[ "How's that? You lost them?" ] A tense beat. [ "_Mm. _Oxton?" ]

[ "Y-yes, Cap?" ]

[ "Care to explain?" ]

[ "Thhheyyy gave me the slip somehow, I-I don't...-" ]  
[ "A pair of amateur dealers from _Los Muertos _gave you both 'the slip?'" ]

Yikes. Captain was...pretty pissed.

[ "Apologies, we-" ]  
"It's like they-"

[ "Back to the station," ] Amari cut them off. [ "Both of you. Immediately. You'll file your report, and tomorrow we'll discuss whether it was a mistake putting you two together again." ]

Aloy held in a sigh. She _knew _in her gut that her partner did the same.

[ "Am I clear?" ]

"Yes, Ma'am."  
[ "Crystal." ]

[ "I'm especially disappointed in you, Nora. We've already wasted enough resources on this 'hunch' of yours. I'm starting to wonder if your hot-shot antics in Meridian were all just a fluke, after all." ]

"I-...I completely understand, Captain, I don't-...I'll work harder. I don't have any excuses."

[ "Good, because I don't _want_ excuses, _Officer_. I want answers." ]

"A-And we...will get those. _Soon._" Convincing. Confident. "I, uh, we might have discovered something interesting about their activity today." No response. "I'll-...I'll detail it in my report."

[ "Mm. As you were." ] - Amari did _not _sound pleased.

The Captain hung up.

A heavy pause as Aloy meandered her way back to Main Street, her heart-rate still slowing itself back down – from the strange encounter she'd just had, but also from Amari's rigid tone.

[ "Sorry, Luv," ] Lena sighed, that formality melting off of her tone. [ "I really thought we had 'em." ] She fluttered her lips tiredly. [ "Was _sure _we did, really..." ]

"It's fine, Lena." It was not. "I'll...see you back at the station."

An awkward pause. There was a shared guilt and frustration that seeped through the brief radio silence.

[ "Right, then." ]

The connection terminated.

Their task concluded, Aloy trudged her way down Main Street.

"Can't _believe _this crap," she grumbled to herself. "There's _got _to be something to this, something I'm not seeing...Right in _front _of me, I just know it."

Pulling out her phone, she sent a text, speaking into her device to convert speech to typed words.

( To: P.F. )  
"We still on for tonight, question mark? Same place as usual, question mark?"

After rounding a corner, she got her reply.

( From: P.F. )  
( As long as drinks are still on you. )-

( To: P.F. )  
"Oh, I could _definitely _use drinks tonight, period. I hope you came up with something, period."

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

Her fingers were numbed by the bitter night air. But they would pinch her cigarette in place even while frozen over. And her other hand, gripping at her phone, would tap and swipe 'til her thumb fell off from frostbite. Her addictions – both physical and mental – needed to be replenished, and the sweet relief of that ten minute break always felt like an oasis in the desert of this crazy town's people and their problems.

That familiar voice in her phone spoke. Or didn't speak. Or both.

_**-you don't have enough for the cell bill-**_

"You think I don't know that?"

_**-was that cactus **_**really**_** something you needed?-**_

"To keep me _sane? _Yes. Yes, it was."

_**-sharp things keep you sane, now, do they?-**_

"Well, it didn't shut _you _up, so, I guess not."

_**-ouch. is this really the time of year for such attitude?-**_

"You're right. Fine. Holiday season truce?"

_**-truce-**_

"That was. . .too easy."

_**-heh. break time's over-  
-back to the grind, Jill-**_

Blowing past the chatter within her own head, Jill typed one last update to social media.

[ How do we do it? Repeat the same tired cycles, over and over? ]  
[ Twenty four hours pass, time moves forward, but do WE? ]  
[ Another day, another dollar. Another waste of twenty four hours. ]

[ Our circadian rhythms calibrated by the corporate machines. ]  
[ Machines making more machines. ]  
[ The cycle we willingly insert ourselves into, like cogs interlocking into each other. ]  
[ Slotted into place, forced to turn each other round in circles. ]

Little presumptuous? A little emo-hipster-ish?

She didn't care. It was how she felt. That's what that shit was for. Just screaming – or even trying to speak – into the damned void, and being reassured that she was in good company. The void didn't scream, didn't speak didn't stare back, it just...was a void. And they were all spinning aimlessly in it, right?

Sweeping her purple twin-tails back over her shoulders, Jill sucked one last desperate puff from her cigarette, dropped it to the tarmac to join its siblings in their cemetery, and stamped it with her boot's toe.

Like any other day, Jill re-entered the establishment through its brown, rusted metal back door. She hung up her winter jacket – a plum-colored number with a faux-fur edged collar. She entered the cramped bathroom and washed her hands. She re-adjusted her white blouse, her dark purple vest, and her red tie. She fussed with her bangs and ensured her draping hair was in order. She fidgeted with her knee-length skirt. She avoided looking her eyes in the mirror. She knew how exhausted she looked.

Like any other day, as she exited the bathroom and passed by the Chief's office, she was given a wave by her boss, and she waved back with a smile.

Like any other day, as she re-entered the bar floor, Jill repeated her mantra to herself:

"Time to mix drinks and change lives."

The establishment was pretty slow that night, but given the state of things in Arcadia, Jill wasn't too surprised. Tensions were high. People were scared after the bombing earlier in the week. She just hoped that was the last one they'd be seeing for some while – how many in the past month? Three, four? It was a bit worrying.

After having spent most of her evening dealing with rowdy, rude customers, Jill was a little relieved to see a familiar face waiting for her at the bar. A brunette with shoulder length hair, the customer had a slim face with a few freckles. Blue eyes that always seemed to be on edge, ready to dodge out of a conversation at any moment. She had a messenger bag slung across her shoulder that she let sit against the base of her stool as she took a seat.

The woman pushed up her fedora slightly to look Jill in the eyes and smirked.

"_Jules_," she greeted in a tease.

_Pff, _the bitch.

"_Maxine_," Jill teased back. "Been a while. Where's your mistress?"

The woman – a regular customer off and on – rolled her eyes and shook her head a bit, but smiled a little at Jill's taunt.

"My _client, _you mean?" Max corrected.

"Thhhhat _doesn't _make it sound any less weird," Jill snickered, narrowing her eyes.

Max tried to let the joke roll off with a smarmy smirk and a soft laugh, though Jill could tell it had ruffled her a bit. Right. Those kinds of jokes weren't good with this customer. Noted.

"She's on her way," Max grumbled, referring to her client.

"The red-head, right?" Jill checked, getting herself sorted on her tablet register. She saw Max nod out of the corner of her eye. "Been out snooping for another scoop today, then, huh?"

"Something like that," Max sighed, her voice getting a bit hoarse before she coughed into her sleeve.

"Sounds like the fuzz has you on their leash these days," Jill said in a bemused mumble as she tidied up some empty, abandoned glasses. Snatching up the handful of bills left behind as tips, she glanced to Max, who was clutching at her head with a tired, defeated look.

"Can't afford to get picky with my clients," Max grumbled into her palm, wiping it down her face. "And, well," she breathed out with a shrug, "I mean, working with the cops sure beats that cliché 'my-spouse-is-cheating-on-me' crap, or delivering damn _subpoenas._ I am _so _done with that shit."

"Yea," Jill said with a nod, cleaning up the dirty glasses in the sink. "I can see that. Getting saddled with tedious busywork must be frustrating. I mean, you were the one who cracked that Dark Room case back in the day, right?"

Max nodded, rubbing at her eyes.

"That was some messed up stuff," Jill recalled, trying to remember the details.

"Yea," Max grunted, massaging her forehead. "Long time ago. But it put me on the map, anyway."

"Right," said Jill. "You pour yourself into something that big, make a name for yourself, all just to get sucked back into the mundane stuff...Probably feels like being pulled out of the ocean and being dumped into a pond."

"Mm," Max hummed, her eyelids fluttering in a weird way. She looked pretty out of it, but it didn't look like she'd had anything to drink yet.

"Can I get you some water?" Jill offered. "Or...-?"

"A Piano Woman," Max requested, her eyes buried in her hand.

Jill gave pause at this. It was always precarious, being in this position. She was there to serve drinks, but with that came a certain sense of obligation to protect people from themselves.

"You sure?" Jill checked. A Piano Woman was a hefty drink, after all.

Max, her eyes still closed, nodded whilst rubbing at her temple.

"Don't think I've been _more _sure of anything today," Max advised. "Make it a strong one."

"Coming right up, then," Jill said, getting her liquors in order.

_The P.I. here wants a Piano Woman. Looks like she's got something heavy on her mind. Maybe a good drink can help lighten that burden._

Whilst thrashing her drink shaker to mix Max's order, Jill noticed her co-worker, Gillian, serving up a drink to quite the looker on the opposite end of the bar. The customer had a rather punky style to her, and was fixated on her laptop, chugging down some bourbon while she worked. The woman seemed to effortlessly be able to navigate her device with one hand while drinking with the other. Jill couldn't help but be distracted by the woman – half of her head was shaved with an intricate pattern buzzed into it, while the other half was a long, flowing mane of black with purple highlights. The woman paid her no mind, too involved in her computer, it seemed.

Jill had to un-distract herself from the aura that customer gave so she could work on mixing Max's Piano Woman. The P.I.'s order was completed.

"Here you are," said Jill, delicately setting the classy beverage on a fresh coaster.

Max took a hefty gulp from it and coughed a little from the sting. Well, she _had _asked for a strong one...

"Thanks," Max croaked while catching her breath. She sighed out a blend of relaxation and exhaustion.

"Is your client running late?" Jill theorized, searching for more conversation.

Swallowing a second swig, Max shook her head.

"Got here a bit early," Max wheezed.

The P.I. was suddenly overcome by another coughing fit, some sniffling, and...-

Oh, yikes. Max's nose had started to bleed.

"Nayru_damnit_," Max growled under her breath, noting the red drops on her fingers. She shoved up from her stool, wrist pressed to her upper lip.

"That dry winter air," Jill mused, "Messing with your allergies again, huh? It sucks."

"Yea," Max groaned, swiftly making her way for the bathroom.

Poor woman, she seemed to always have some problem or another when she came to the bar. She'd even passed out a couple times – Boss had needed to keep an eye on her one evening. Not Jill's business to ask, but maybe she was sick, or something?

_**-aren't we all a little sick?-**_

The flat-screen hanging on the wall flickered out its internal running commentary that Jill had gotten used to, that eery woman's face having taken over a commercial.

Jill frowned, mumbling, "I thought we'd agreed to a Holiday truce."

"What was that?" Gillian asked from her right.

A blink later and the flat-screen was playing an advert for Rikimaru Ramen – a familiar staple of Jill's diet. She had to admit, though, it didn't hold a candle to the Mintendo Noodle House. _Gah, _if only she could afford the place. It had been _months_ since she'd had _real _ramen.

Damn. Now Jill was hungry just thinking about it. Useless, given her financial situation.

"Huh?" Gillian prodded when she didn't reply.

"Just...grumbling to myself," Jill dismissed Gillian's inquiry.

Gillian approached her, shrugging the odd moment off. He scratched at his facial hair warily. Gill was a shaggy gent with dark, messy hair and a seemingly permanent five o'clock shadow. He had calm eyes and a relaxing voice – yet his demeanor was amusingly twitchy, and he'd get startled out of his cool cucumber state at the drop of a coin. Gillian was a reliable co-worker, though. Honestly, the best Jill had ever had thus far. But the two had a relationship built on mutual taunting to keep things interesting.

"So," Gill said, clearing his throat. "That, uh-...That regular of yours. She's not...meeting with that _cop _again, is she?"

Jill's eyes creaked from her mixer rinsing to Gillian as a wry smile slid onto her face.

_"Maybe,"_ she said slyly, narrowing her eyes. "But I wouldn't worry about it."

"It's just that...-" Gillian frowned. "That cop that comes here, she just makes me ner-"  
"Makes you nervous, I know. You're gonna go take your break the _second_ she comes in, aren't you?"

Gillian nodded, tight-lipped.

Jill had come to decide over time that her co-worker was _definitely _involved in something on the side that was _definitely _illegal, and that their Boss knew something about it. But Jill never seemed able to get any dirt on the matter. Boss seemed fine with it, so...-

_'He's loyal,' _Boss had stated. _'He does his job well. Whatever he's up to after-hours is his business. Mine? It's running this bar.'_

If it was good enough for the Boss, it was good enough for Jill. Most of the time.

_**-besides, getting your dirty laundry hung out to dry is never fun-**_

"Fair enough."

"Thanks," Gillian said, replying to Jill's inadvertent mumbling. "You're the best, Jules."

Jill's hands tightened into fists within the dishwater she was using.

"No problem, _John,_" she retaliated.

After flinching, Gillian muttered humbly, "I deserved that."

It was never as fun when he accepted his 'John-Face' so readily.

And so did Gillian go back to his customer – that mysterious woman with the laptop. As Jill finished rearranging some bottles and glasses for efficiency's sake, she noticed that Gillian and his customer got a little irate with one another, if only in a hushed way. She couldn't make out the conversation, but Gillian's body language seemed fretful, whereas the slick, confident-looking customer was unfazed. It was rare to see Gill get flustered by a customer. He was normally efficient at not taking things personally – something Jill was still working on.

"Hey, lady," called out the flashy customer in question. Jill felt a bit paralyzed just by the slightest attention from this woman. She had a bit of an accent – from south of the border, maybe? "Your _friend _here's a bit _twitchy, _unh?"

"He's like that," Jill confirmed, giving the glaring Gillian a beaming smile. "Just ignore him."

"I'm _right _here," Gillian whined.

The woman, still plucking at her keyboard, mused at Gill with a teasing look, "_Ignore _him..." She nodded slowly, drumming her purple fingernails on her bourbon glass. She then decided with a smirk at Gill, "I think I'll _do _that."

Gillian just sighed at this and resumed tidying up his side of the bar.

The front door swung open, and in entered a flame-haired woman with sharp eyes – Officer Nora, who Jill's regular Max had been meeting up with periodically. Nora had intimidating eyes and pointed expressions. Beneath that veneer was a warm-hearted woman who took her job seriously. Maybe it was her captivating yet stoic, hazel eyes set over a thick mess of freckles, her strangely elegant mess of voluminous copper hair, or just the way she carried herself, but Officer Nora often seemed to garner affections she seemed oblivious to – or just politely disinterested in. Either way, Jill always felt just a twinge of light-headedness at the sight of the woman, but with familiarity came reassurance.

"Welcome to Valhalla," Jill greeted, leaning forward so Gillian could not-so-stealthily sneak by behind her, taking his leave. "I was starting to worry we'd never see you again," she jested, watching the officer approach the counter, flicking winter-swept hair over her shoulders.

"The rate _I'm _going," Nora grumbled, "you just _might _never seen me again..."

"Oh," Jill eked, off put by the pessimism. "I, um, I'm sorry to hear that."

Officer Nora's eyes pinched shut for a second, her nostrils flaring out as she re-centered herself.

"Sorry," she sighed. "Not been the best week. Worried I might need to leave town soon..."

"Sounds complicated," Jill sympathized.

Nora's brows lifted, her lips tightened, and she nodded bitterly. She flicked her wrist at the half-consumed Piano Woman on the counter.

"Did my friend already show up?" she wondered. "Probably took off for the restroom, didn't she?"

"Nice observation, detective," said Jill with a nod.

"More like an educated guess," Nora humbly mumbled, sitting down in the seat next to where the P.I. had taken up roost. "If I was any good at detective work, I'd _be _one by...-" She caught herself, trailing off. Her nose wrinkled with disdain, her lip quivered, and she sighed. "_Any_way," she said with a slight shake of the head. "Her drinks are on me tonight. Can I get...a Cobalt Velvet?"

_A Cobalt Velvet for the Officer. Maybe to soften the blow that today has struck her with?_

"Coming right up," Jill said with her usual professionalism, getting straight to work. "By the way, with how often you've been coming in, I've been meaning to ask – what's your name? Your first name, I mean. Or-...Well, unless you prefer...-"

"Aloy."

"What...?" The bartender's liquid pouring was put on hold.

"My, um-..." The officer cleared her throat. "That's my name. Aloy."

"Ay..._Loy_?" The bartender slowly continued her mixology. What kind of name was that?

Aloy nodded solemnly, scratching at her neck with a tired dip of her head.

The purple-haired tender nodded and shrugged up one shoulder, saving face. "I, uh, haven't heard _that_ one before."

"I bet," Aloy mumbled bitterly. "My mother's...a little bit different." Aloy sighed, leaving the matter to rest on that. "You can call me whatever you like, honestly. When I'm here, I'm off the clock, so...-"

The bartender smiled, and Aloy smiled back.

"Aloy it is, then, Miss."

"And you?"

"Uh, Jill." She shrugged more fully and bobbed her head slightly. Not knowing what else to add, she hummed out an "Mm."

"Right." An awkward beat. Aloy lightly knocked her knuckle against the counter. "Do you-...I mean, do you get friendly with _all_ of your regulars?"

"Not by _choice_," Jill said grimly. "But don't worry, I wouldn't ask unless I wanted to."

"Of course." Aloy nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'm-...Yea, thanks, I appreciate it, actually."

"No problem."

Aloy mused, "Sometimes it's good to just...be treated like everyone else, I guess. You know?"

"Yea. I bet. Especially these days."

"These days?"

"O-Oh, just...-" Jill swallowed nervously, shrugging. "With everything going on in Arcadia..."

"Ah." Aloy tapped her fingers against the counter. "Right."  
The bombings, she was probably referring to. They _had _been causing folks to lose faith in the APD as of late...

Aloy watched as Jill shifted away from their conversation and went to her mixing.

Jill seemed a bit flustered for some reason, so Aloy decided to let her go to her task. Left to wait for her drink, Aloy took out her phone. She had a text.

( From: Lena )  
( sorry for the cock up today luv :'( )-  
( was scared you got hurt )-

Aloy went to reply, using her voice to text.

"It's fine, period. We tried, comma, we failed, comma...-" A sigh. "-...it happens, period."

The bartender took note of Aloy's message.

As she shook the mixer about, Jill inquired, "Bad day?"

Aloy nodded warily, rubbing at her eyes. She could _feel _the bags hanging beneath them.

[ From: Lena]  
[ you're cross with me eh? ]-  
[ you are. I could tell back at the station. ]-  
[ i'm sorry! D'x ]-

Aloy's stomach wriggled uncomfortably. Lena was still a kid at heart in a lot of ways. Which...was adorable as hell, honestly. Aloy had done so much growing up so early, it was kind of nice to have that experience, if only vicariously.

[ From: Lena ]-  
[ how can I make it up luv? ]-  
[ ^3^ ]- Hoo, a kiss emoji, now?

Aloy's weary expression finally melted into a dumb smile. She tapped that voice button and sent another text.

"It's really okay, period. We'll be fine, comma, I'm just a bit scared about work, period. Try not to worry so much, comma, I'll be home in a little while, period."

She made sure to add a reciprocal kissy-face emoji, though she found herself hesitating a little. Wasn't sure why, though, so she rode past the feeling and sent it, anyway.

"Scared about work?" the purple-haired bartender prodded.

Aloy became self-conscious and tucked her phone away. The person she'd been waiting for exited the bathroom.

"Ah, yea, just...politics," Aloy replied to the tender with a dismissive flick of her wrist.

"I can imagine," said Jill, serving up the neon blue drink Aloy had ordered.

Aloy nodded sullenly, diverting her gaze to Max Caulfield. _Hah. _The woman was wearing a _fedora _and everything that evening, yeesh.

"Hey," said Aloy.

"Ma'am," Max greeted with a nod and a tip of her hat, taking her seat.

They avoided gazes for a moment, each sinking into their beverages.

Jill cleared her throat and asked, "Do you two...need anything else? Or should I leave you to it?"

Aloy glanced to Max, who shrugged with a slight shake of the head.

"I think we're good for now," said Aloy, raising her glass in gratitude. "Thanks."

The twin-tailed bartender nodded deeply – almost a bow – and whisked herself to the other far side of the counter to assist someone else.

That was something Aloy really liked about this dive bar: the staff had a keen sense of service yet also discretion. Very personal and comfortable.

"So," said Max. She was sliding her fingertip counter-clockwise around the edge of her glass. "We getting straight to business today, or...is this also a social call, _orrr_...-?"

Aloy was a little distraught by this. While their meets were founded in work, things were usually more friendly between them. Something seemed to be on Max's mind.

"Oh, uh-...I mean, whatever you're up for," Aloy assured. "I didn't...interrupt anything, did I?"

"No. _Oh, _no, no," Max shaved the edge off of her tone. "S-Sorry, I'm just not feeling so well today. I'm...honestly just ready to go home to my wife, and...just...-" She sighed through her nose, shaking her head disparagingly before taking a swig of her beverage.

"Ah," said Aloy with empathy. "You could've...called things off, if...-"  
"It's fine, I-...I need the work," Max said bluntly. "Um, anyway...-"

Max dug into her jacket and pulled out a padded envelope. She set it on the countertop and slid it over.

Aloy gave herself a moment to take her environs in – just the two of them, the bartender, and the lone customer down the way.

Aloy withdrew her own envelope in kind and the pair exchanged parcels.

Max counted bills of cash discreetly as Aloy examined the contents of her received goods. As usual, a USB drive and some printed out photos, folded in half. Aloy was eager to discover their contents, and began to examine them, setting each one face down on the countertop.

"Oh," said Max, pausing. "There's-...This is more than we agreed on, I...-"

"Think of it as a holiday gift," Aloy said with a smirk.

"Um, thanks," Max said, her face getting a little pink. "I don't...really _deserve _it, but...-"

"Life's not fair," said Aloy, upgrading her smirk to a warm smile. "But that doesn't always have to be a _bad_ thing, right?"

"Mm." Max nodded bashfully. She tucked her payment into her coat before timidly sipping at her drink.

Aloy gave the woman a pat on the back, then went back to her photo studying. Aloy took in what she could from the images.

The two hooded figures, faces covered in bandannas with bones patterned on them. The pair was navigating the Historic District. Stopping at some kind of restaurant. OK. Visiting an apartment complex. Greeting someone at the door – some older woman. _Damn, _someone Aloy recognized but couldn't quite place. A child, exiting the house – _oh, _the one Lena must've seen? – the figures left _with _the child. Some shots of them navigating the District, then getting on the subway. Based on the time stamps, it checked out with the time Lena had detected them arriving across town. The taller one's face seemed clear enough – his eyes, anyway – but no matter the angle or shot, the shorter one was always too blurry to make out, and with bandannas over their mouths and puffy hoodie jackets on? Good luck ID-ng them.

"Dig anything up on these two?" Aloy asked, downing a gulp of her Cobalt.

Max nodded, but shrugged up one shoulder.

"They're definitely Los Muertos members," she cited quietly, staring at what little was left of her drink. "At least one of them stops by the same restaurant every day for lunch. Oh, uh, here."

Max produced a matchbook from her coat and handed it to Aloy. It had a logo printed on it featuring the profile of...some person with a bowtie, eyeglasses, and a hairdo that looked more like flames than hair.

_{ Grillby's }  
{ Established 200X }_

An address was chicken-scratched in red ink on the inside – Max's handwriting.

Max cited, "I know for a fact the place is a hub for Los Muertos and their clientele."

"Worth looking into, then," Aloy decided.

"_Carefully_," Max cautioned.

After placing the matchbook with the pile of photos, Aloy pointed out the two figures in question again.

"So, what do we know about these guys?"

"I'm pretty sure they're brothers," Max said. "But I can't seem to get real names on 'em, much less what their status in the group is, where they come from...-" She trailed off with a shake of her head.

"Real names?" Aloy wondered.

"They always go by nicknames. Or...code names? I'm not sure."

"What are these code names?" Aloy pressed, trying to keep her voice down despite her curiosity.

Max grabbed one of the photos, and pointed at each figure.

"The fat guy goes by 'Sans.' The football-player-looking dude is 'Papyrus.'"

"Hm." Aloy tapped her chin. Weren't those computer font names? So, maybe they really _were _connected to the hacks going on...Which meant that maybe they really were responsible for that..._thing _Aloy had seen? "And the kid?" Aloy tapped her finger at the brown-haired child in the puffy, striped winter coat. They were wearing a black baseball cap with text printed on it.

{ MERCY}

"That child? Might as well be a ghost," Max said contemplatively. "I mean, maybe your database has records, but...I couldn't find _shit_ on that kid. Name, age, gender, I don't...-" She shrugged, wide-eyed. "I mean, _nothing. _Nothing real, anyway. Contradictions."

Aloy burned her eyes into a photograph of the child. Expressionless. A slight shiver went up her spine as she tried to imagine what the Los Muertos wanted with some kid – or maybe it was the child's expression that made her uneasy.

"Nothing real?" Aloy poked.

"Kid seems to be adopted, but...-" Max scratched at her neck with a sigh. "There's just something off about it. I couldn't find out much. It's like there's multiple records, multiple names, all for this one kid. So...-" Max shook her head, tight-lipped. "Something's off."

"Sounds like it," agreed Aloy. "And the woman?" Aloy asked, shuffling through some photos until she found one. "I _know _her from somewhere."

Max nodded, scratching her nose and glancing sideways down the bar.

"That...-" Max began, pausing and laughing softly. "-is because she's the mayor's ex-_wife_."

Aloy did a bit of a double-take at that.

"_Ex-_wife?" Aloy was surprised.

"Yea," said Max, brows furrowing. "Happened, like...two years ago. Was all over the press. It was _not _a quiet breakup."

Aloy rubbed at her chin and downed a gulp of Cobalt.

"Oh, I wasn't..._here, _that's when I started working in Meridian."

"Gotcha," Max replied with a thoughtful nod. "Well, she faded out of the limelight pretty fast. Teaches over at at Ebott Elementary now. I could look into what she's been up to, if you want." At this offer, Aloy nodded eagerly. "But, anyway," Max went on, "If you look...-" Max sifted through the photos again, pulling one out. "-..._here. _See this one?"

It was from the sequence where the two figures were picking up the kid – the shorter, fat one was hugging the woman. Fairly intimately. And wait...-

"I'm _pretty _sure they kissed," Max cited. "So there's _something _going on there. No idea how the_ kid_ is related to your case, but...-" She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Again, there's something about the whole thing that...has me uneasy." She sniffed, wiping her sleeve against her nose. "What do you make of it?"

"Well. When my partner and I were tailing them today," Aloy recanted, "we couldn't figure out why they had this child with them, but...I'm starting to think the child was what they were transporting."

"Huh. Well, where did they drop them off?" Max wondered.

Aloy shook her head.

"That's the thing: I don't know _how, _but we lost them again. It's-..._Rrgh._"Aloy's fist clenched around her glass."It's like they're somehow...just...-"

"Always one step ahead?" Max related grimly. "Yea, I had that problem, too..." Her eyes glazed over for a moment as she slid her fingertip counter-clockwise on her glass's rim again. She snapped out of her stupor with a cough and rubbed at her irritated nostrils again. "Anyway...-" She trailed off with a sigh.

"I think this hobo-look is just a front," Aloy theorized. "Their out-in-plain-view disguise. These two know what they're doing."

"What makes you say that?" asked Max, flagging down the bartender, pointing to her empty glass, and nodding.

Finishing off her own first drink, Aloy pointed out, "Well, on top of them knowing how to lose a tail, when I was onto them, they...-"

Jill was mixing together another Piano Woman for Max, giving Aloy a moment to recollect her memories from that afternoon.

Fiery eyes that were ice-cold at the same time.  
Greenish-blue hair, red letter jacket, brown hands.  
Those eyes were so empty, so haunting, yet so angry and confused.  
But the entire thing, what appeared to be a person, wasn't even _there.  
_Just some flickering illusion, like a glitch in reality.

And the _pain _Aloy had felt. So sharp, and sudden, disappearing just as could they have caused _that_? Maybe just a panic attack of some sort? PTSD? That wasn't how that worked, though, was it? Aloy had made note of that on her report, and she worried about the consequences, but she wasn't going to fool around with that kind of thing. If they deemed her unfit, well, they deemed her unfit, and she'd deal with it – just like she'd dealt with the demotion she'd taken when she'd returned to Arcadia.

"What happened?" Max asked, leaning in, her new beverage now poured. The bartender had gone back to giving them their space, chatting it up with the other customer. "When you were following them, I mean."

Aloy swallowed the lump in her throat. She wasn't sure if she could be open about this – what if she was just losing it?

"W-well, it..._looked _like they set up some kind of...holographic..._distraction? _Decoy?I'm not...-" She trailed off warily. "To be honest, I'm not sure _what _they did, but it was...-"

"Strange," said Max, finishing the thought. "Yea, I-...Based on what I've found out, it seems like odd things happen in their wake. Cameras go down at convenient times, traffic lights rotate at just the right moment..."

Aloy leaned over and whispered, "Do you think Los Muertos is connected to the recent hacks? To the terrorist attacks going on around here?"

Max shrugged, nodding half-heartedly.

"Nothing proven," Max conceded, "but...if I was betting on things? Yea. They're _definitely _involved, somehow."

"Do you think it's the Sheikah they're working with?" Aloy wondered, figuring she'd toss her theory out on a fresh set of ears.

"The _Sheikah?_" Max balked. "Aren't they ancient history?"

"They've...had a resurgence recently," Aloy pointed out. "Those hacks – like the one that crippled Nook Realty last month?" Max acknowledged Aloy's citation. "I have it on good authority that the Sheikah had a hand in that."

"Really?" said Max, leaning back with some surprise, to which Aloy nodded.

"Really."

"Huh," was what Max had to say about that. "I mean, I assumed it was the Phantom Thieves finally getting their hands dirty in the west – Nook's CEO is definitely involved in some shady shit, and his recent dealings _would_ match the Phantoms' M.O. Then again, a 'calling card' was never publicized, so-..._Hmph." _Max sunk her mouth into her palm, elbow on the table as she pondered. "But...I mean, I could _see _the Sheikah being capable, if they've been pooling their resources back together. What's the angle, though?"

Aloy bit her lip and shrugged uncertainly.

Aloy's head fizzed with consideration. The Phantom Thieves, huh? She hadn't even considered that group, she didn't think they'd go international. Damnit. She'd have to do some research on them later. They _had _been getting a bit of a reputation. Apparently they'd become quite the big deal over in the land of the Rising Sun, potentially even _murdered _a CEO of some big company? But that didn't change Aloy's suspicions about the Sheikah.

"Well," Aloy puffed out tiredly with a shrug. "I'm feeling a little _more _lost than when we started." She glanced one more time at that woman in the photos. "But at least I've got a lead or two to look into. Thanks. A _lot._"

"Just business," said Max, shrugging and shrinking into her coat's collar at Aloy's gratitude.

"You know what?" said Aloy, raising her hand to get Jill's attention. "You're right – enough business. I want to know how things are going for you and your wife. What was her name, again?"

Aloy delighted at the way Max's face glowed a little, as if by reflex.

Max's mouth curved into a bashful, sentimental smile as she replied.

"Chloe."

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

"Chloe!" growled a voice from out of sight, echoing across the concrete garage.

"_Whaaaat_?" Chloe roared back, scratching an itch on her head with her wrench.

"Did you finish that bike, or not?!"

"I'm-..." Chloe spit out some gunk that had gotten into her mouth. With an impatient huff, she finished tightening the fuckamajig that had been giving her hell, then pulled herself up on two feet. "Just about!" she called back, shouting. "Just gotta-!" Aaaaand her boss was right there when she had turned around, so she corrected her volume. "_Uh, _just gotta clean 'er up, Bridgette, damn."

"It's Brih-_gih_-tah," corrected her boss on the pronunciation.

"_Oh. _Fuck. S-Sorry, Ma'am."

The boss' expression softened at Chloe's shriveled stance.

"It's fine," she said, letting Chloe off the hook. She grumbled under her breath with a shrug, "Everyone gets it wrong..." Chloe felt a sense of frustration beyond just the 'name' bit. But Brigitte concluded, "You can just go back to calling me Ms. Lindholm if that's easier."

"Nah, I mean, it's-...Brih-_gee_-tah?" Chloe checked.

"Brih-_gih_-tah."

_"_Brih-_gih_-tah. Got it. Remembered." Chloe jabbed her greasy finger into her sweaty forehead. "Saved right up here. Uhm, a-anyway." She diverted the convo to the motorcycle she'd been finishing up. "About this bike – what's the big rush?"

"That was supposed to be completed two _hours _ago," Brigitte sighed, crossing her bulky arms with a disappointed look. "The customer's here to pick it up."

Chloe blinked at her boss awkwardly and shrugged, dunking her wrench with a _-clang- _into her tool box.

"Uh, sorry, I guess I...-"

Fuckin' A. Chloe was just stumbling sideways through everything today, huh?

Chloe Price had been bulking up a bit in recent years, having done a stint of work with union labor after dropping out of college. She had blue eyes and naturally blond hair, but at present had chopped half of her hair off and dyed the shoulder-side side a rich shade of blue. Multiple piercings in each ear, and a grunge-lite sense of style – tempered in recent years, perhaps, by her wife's milder tastes. Oh, and don't forget her proudest feature: an arm-length tattoo depicting a complex array of rose vines intertwining a red ribbon, accented by a golden skull and blue butterflies. As a result, Chloe commonly wore short-sleeve (or no-sleeved) attire to proudly show off this right arm. Which, come to think, was indeed starting to bulk up from her dayjobs as of late.

But Chloe's muscles didn't hold a candle to her boss'. Brigitte Lindholm was a thick, sturdy woman with long red hair, usually tied in a tail with two tendrils down her shoulders. A round jawline with a strong chin, sharp eyes and big lips. Her left bicep had a gear symbol tattooed in black – the logo of her family's auto shop chain. She was a hefty lady who struck a balance between scary but lovely that Chloe couldn't make sense of.

"I know you're new here," Brigitte said, "so let me be plain: Ironclad Auto is known for its punctualityand quality. You're going to have to start picking up the paces if this is going to work out. My father spent _decades _building a reputation for this place – the _original _Ironclad Auto Workshop? – and I won't let that be ruined. I see a _spark _in you, Chloe, but you've got to meet me halfwaybefore we can forge that spark into a flame."

"R-right, yea, totally," said Chloe, her stomach gurgling with fear. She couldn't afford to lose this job, not after how hard it had been to land _a job _in the first place. And especially not with how inconsistent Max's income was. "Sorry, Briggs, lost my focus today."

Brigitte's sharp stare held for a few seconds before dissolving. Damn, was Chloe lucky that this beast of a woman had a softer inside than outside.

"All right," said Brigitte with some empathy. "I know I have been pushing you to the grindstone. But...it's because I see so much _potential_ in you."

Chloe seemed to get that a lot. She wasn't so sure if that was such a good thing, though.

"Thanks," said Chloe, untying the bandanna around her neck and wiping grease, oil, and sweat from her forehead. "I'll clear my head over the weekend, come back Monday with a fire under my ass."

Brigitte smiled at that, laughing a little through her nose.

"Good. This time of year, we get more accidents, which means more workload. I'm going to need you to really get in gear. OK Motors is already swiping business from us, so-" She flashed a clenched fist – a meaty, bulky fist, _damn, _gurl, get it. "-we need to _prove_ ourselves."

Chloe nodded as formally as she could muster, offering a salute she somewhat regretted.

"Yessir, Ma'am." _Damnit. _"You can-...You can count on me."

"No shortcuts, just hard work," Brigitte said with a warm wrinkle in her smile, slapping Chloe on the back with encouragement.

Brigitte seemed satisfied with their chat after a moment of thought.

"I'll let your customer in," she said, heading back to the front. "Don't forget to remind them about our offers this month."

"Aye-aye," said Chloe, despite not even knowing herself what said offers were. It didn't matter. Not with this customer.

Washing up her face a bit and getting her cleaning supplies in order, Chloe felt the first spike of relief since her shift had started when her friends nervously sauntered in – a pudgy, rowdy rocker with a style Chloe approved, alongside their leather-clad, slick-haired best bud.

"Borowski, _eyyyy_," Chloe greeted, setting down her bucket of materials and ripping off her gloves to greet them.

Mae Borowski was a short, stout punk with a sweet little faux-hawk – a few red tufts in the front, shaved close at the sides. A round face with dulled expressions but wide eyes that stabbed at you when they got excited. Pudgy little beast of a person, but with that came a wealth of energy and enthusiasm.

"'Sup, Price?" Mae replied.

They exchanged a multi-stepped handshake without missing a beat. Chloe managed to get _something _right, at least.

"Stayin' busy, Mae, stayin' busy. Hey, Gregg," she greeted the one in leather (so much leather). "My duder!"

Gregg was a lean, not-at-all-mean young man. Shaggy hair, dyed a strawberry blonde, sat over a clean-cut, vibrant face with a tall, sharp nose and thin lips. His pointy little chin usually had a healthy patch of hair on it. Much as Chloe disagreed with such things, apparently the dude's boyfriend loved it, so hey, different strokes. Expressive hazel eyes and a slender build, the man loved him some tight-ass jeans for his tight-ass.

Chloe went to shake Gregg's hand, but he shooed her hands to the side and gave her a hug.

"My _baby,_" he said, sobbing facetiously.

"Oh, uh...Yea, hey," Chloe replied warily, accepting his emotional gesture with some confusion.

"No – my _baby_," Gregg repeated, pointing at the motorcycle Chloe had been working on with a point of his finger. As their hug broke, he asked, "Does she _live_? Does she _purr_?"

"Oh, she _roars_," Chloe assured. "Just gotta give her a polish, then you can take a test run."

"You _**rule**_, OK?" Gregg said, slapping her bare, sturdy shoulders with his palms.

"_**You**__ rule OK_," Chloe retorted with a chuckle, knuckling him in the chest. Oh, little tight-ass there, too, apparently. Had he been workin' out?

Mae, hands on their hips, soaked in the atmosphere of the garage.

"So," Mae gestured at the garage, a bit intimidated. "How goes the..._this_? Shiz? All this shiz?"

"Man, Mae," Chloe breathed out. "I don't even fuckin' _know_," she said quietly, so the other mechanics wouldn't hear. "I think I'm in over my head here. But I'll manage." She sucked in a deep breath through her nose. Her heart sank a little as anxieties bubbled to the surface of her mind, exacerbated by the whirs and clicks of power-tools in the background. "I _have _to."

"I know _that _feel," said Gregg. "But this place has got to pay better than the Snack Falcon, at least."

"That it does," Chloe acknowledged. "Not gonna lie, glad I managed to get outta there."

"Not everyone can be a Snack Champ," said Mae, giving Gregg a light jab on the arm.

"Yea," Gregg said with a shrug, though Chloe could tell the poor guy was probably just as desperate to leave as she had been.

"Anyway," said Chloe, eager to forget all that stressful shit. "Gimme a bit to clean this sucker up for ya, we'll get ya'll...-" She wriggled her arms out, to which Gregg wriggled back. "-...sorted out."

"Then," Mae interjected, "it's time forrrr...-" They fluttered their hands with anticipation.

"Forrr...-" Gregg chimed in unison.

Chloe wasn't sure what they were getting at.

"Tiiiimmme...forrrr...-" Mae repeated, nodding their head in a suggestive manner.

_Oh._

"_Yes_," Chloe blurted, eyes popping open wide, then narrowing as she bobbed her head irritably toward her co-workers. _"_That_...party, _yea, I...didn't forget the supplies."

Mae and Gregg both grinned like kids at a candy store. Chloe should've known. Then again, it wasn't like she _wasn't_ going to join them...Because she was definitely going to join them.

"But," said Chloe, faking to swing a baseball bat. "Did _ya'll _bring what _I _asked for?"

"Smash-smash," Gregg said with a wink, swinging an invisible baseball bat in his arms.

Mae stuck out their fist, inviting a bump.

"Crimes?" said Mae.

Chloe bumped knuckles with them.

"Crimes," Chloe replied.

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

"Got everything?" Gregg checked, peeking his head over as Mae wobbled off of the motorcycle. They were at Mae's apartment building.

Mae stopped themself and checked their coat pockets. Mae was baked like a fucking _potato. _Gregg was prolly close to sober by now. Probably. Well, maybe not.

"Helmet," Gregg reminded.

_Psshhhh, _right. Mae was still wearing Gregg's extra helmet. Had a habit of forgetting about it – prolly 'cuz it wasn't _t__heirs, _right?

After shoving it off of their greasy head, Mae handed it back to their best mate and went about a pocket expedition.

Phone? Yea, probably. Wallet? Maybe. Sure. Keys? Mmmm nah, didn't bring any, didn't need 'em, roommate was home all night.

Aaaaaand...-

Chunky little bag of happy-time-candy for the roommate? Check. Chloe's whole 'grown-up-and-get-a-job' biz didn't mean she couldn't still help a buddy out on the side and make a little extra bank. Besides, it was for a good cause. Mae's roommate wasn't doing so hot, could use a little pick-me-up. See? Thoughtful. Stuff. Mae was doing it. Doing the thoughtful things. For the other persons. Mae had a _job _now (um Chloe's old job), was living in their own _place _(instead of bumming with Gregg and his boyfriend), Mae was doing a good turn for a person that wasn't Mae and _not _just to avoid repercussions for a dumb thing they did.

Beatrice would be proud.

_If_ Bea would return any calls, or texts, or IM's, or e-mails, or even acknowledge that Mae still existed.

"Duder," Gregg grunted. "You good to go?"

"I am _good. to. go._" Mae chuckled and rubbed at their round stomach, bemused by how nice it felt.

"Hey, yo, actually," Gregg had plugged in his keys but stopped. "We doin' the Longest Night thing? Orrr...-?"

"Man, ask yuh _boy_," Mae said with a wild shrug. "Bea won't talk to me. So we're gonna have to do it at your place. I guess."

"_Yea, _Bea's been off the _grid_ lately, huh?" Gregg's head swiveled in a thoughtful manner, though his eyes gave away that said head was full of clouds. Fluffy clouds.

"Dude, _we _were off the grid tonight!" Mae pointed out. "That shit was _fun. _And chill. I don't even _blame _her."

"True. True. Well, I'll ask Angus about party-time. I mean, it is _truh-dish-shun. _Bee can't just ditch us."

"Yea. _Yea. _She wouldn't do that. We got days. We got time."

"We will get it _figured _and _signed _and _sealed _and _delivered._"

"We _will_," Mae agreed, not quite knowing what Gregg meant but knowing that if they thought about it, it would make sense somehow.

A fist-bump goodnight, and Mae was wobbling their way up the stairs to their own little cranny of the world. Third floor, second door on the left.

Went to open the door, aaaand it was locked. Mae went to grab the key, buuuut yea remember how they _didn't _remember to bring those with?

A -_knock, knock- _later and the door sesame'd open, revealing the path to endarkenment.

Mae's roommate looked like _shit_, though, honestly. The apartment was colder than a witch's nipple, and the lights were all off.

"_The hell_?" Mae grunted, switching things on and poking their fat fingers at the thermostat.

"Sorry," their roommate murmured, her voice hoarse. Fuck, was she sick? Mae couldn't catch that stuff. "I, uh, I was distracted," she explained. Kinda.

Soooo, porn, then? Probably porn. No judgments. Mae knew their bud hadn't been laid in, like, _way _too long – Mae could probably help out with that problem, if not for the whole, like...that being a thing, could be a very, very awkward thing. Also, Bea would _not _be proud. And that would be a _bigger _problem. God _damnit _did Mae miss that woman. Wait, what?

Right. Roommate troubles.

Mae's roommate was staring at them with dull, red eyes. _Daaaamnnn _those contacts really _did _pop, but hell if they weren't creepy, in a way.

Made Mae want a pair for themself, honestly.

"How was the...stuff?" the roommate groaned. She was clearly not awake enough for the whole 'talking' bit.

"Was good, was good," Mae said, heading right to their bedroom. "Gregg's ride is back up and running, Chloe's new job is legit, we just...ya know." They shrugged. "Had a little bake-bake, smash-smash." Mae gestured their hands to match their verbs.

Mae's roommate followed behind, shivering a little.

"Sounds..._great_," she mumbled warily. Judgy much?

As Mae sat on their own bed, grunting and struggling against their own pudge to get damned _boots _off, they noticed their roommate enter – and in the brighter lighting of their bedroom, the poor chick just looked...ill. Yea, definitely sick.

"_Shit, _Alex, you OK?"

"Not-...Not _really, _no," she spouted, undoing her ponytail. That teal color always seemed to catch eyes. It was what had caught Chloe's attention back whenever and caused them to meet in the first place. Crazy-haired people gravitated together, and all that. Mae had their red highlights, but had yet to fully commit to the red aesthetic.

Oh, right. Mae's bud was feeling, 'not really, no.'

"Oh," Mae said. Um. Before...sayingggg...something else?

No?  
Not so much?  
Hurm, couldn't think of anything.

Alex huffed and grunted and groaned, fussing her hair into a bun as she did so.  
Aaaand here it came, another good ol' Alex-Rant-You-Didn't-Ask-For ™.

"Jonas has been up my _ass _lately over the expulsion thing – he doesn't _get it, _I don't _handle _that crap so well." ('Right, yea,' Mae went along.) "For a _while _there, I really thought we were, like, you know, _bonding? _As step-siblings?" ('Sure.') "But _now, _ohhh, all of a sudden he's trying to play the 'protective-big-brother' card and, well, _sorry, _Jonas, but that ship has fucking _sailed _– and sunk, _literally._" ('Mm. Tough.') "And I _don't _need someone else trying to 'step up' and take his place, you know?" ('Right.') "And _Clarissa? Hoo, _don't even get me _started_ on her." ('Oh, no.') "She's trying to stir _everything_ back up again." ('Seriously?') "Using me getting expelled as some-...some _springboard _to push her whole Anti-Alex Campaign! So." ('So.') "Family drama is a fucking _mine field _right now, too. To top it all off? This job search is _killing me, _it feels so damned hopeless." ('Oh, I _know._') "How in the _hell _am I supposed to get an entry level job when _all _of the entry-level jobs require _years _of experience?!" ('Right?') "I mean, I've had it up to _here _with filling out _stupid _job apps where if you don't _lie _through your teeth, you don't even get _interviewed._"

After a tight pause, Alex sighed loudly.

"Tell me about it." Mae had been sprawled out in bed this whole time.

"To top it all off?" Oh. She wasn't done yet? She was counting abstract things on her fingers. "My blind date last night was a _shit-show. _My friends are all ignoring me, or pissed with me, or disappointed in me, or-...or _all _of the above." She tossed her hands up with a self-deprecating growl.

"Whaaaaat?" Mae squeaked, their eyelids getting heavy. "I ain't above. Any of. And-and-aaaand...what about Max? Eh?"

"I _know _she's reading my messages," Alex grumbled, "and she's not answering them."

"Know how _that _goes..." Mae yawned, cuddling up with their puffy pillow. "Buuut, c'mon, dude, I'm sure her and Chloe like you OK. They're just, ya know, busy, and...-" Another yawn, cutting themself off.

"I feel-..." Alex grunted fretfully. "I'm just scared I fucked things up with them, and I _really _like them, and I don't get why I even _care _this much, _every _time I make a new friend, it's like I just-"  
"_Whoaaaa, _slow your roll, my compadre," Mae said sleepily.

"That's the _problem, _Mae – I am _incapable _of slowing..._anything._ Definitely not _myself. _And-and then I get stuck in this _stupid _fucking feedback loop of bitching, and hating myself for bitching, and then being too messed up to _change _anything, which leads to more bitching, and then-...And I'm freaking out that they must be _so _sick of me by now."

"Alexandra, my _dude_," Mae said, drifting off. "Those two are cool with you. I asked Chloe. Just tonight. They're just, like, riding on the low tide right now. Or is it high tide? The one that's more...-" Mae yawned yet again. "-...stressful."

Alex scratched at her ear, trying to figure out what Mae had meant. _Gragh, _Mae was useless whenever they came home after hanging out with those guys. The sad thing? Alex was _jealous. _She'd rather be out self-medicating and being a dumb vegetable, but at least feeling _relaxed, _as opposed to medicating at home. Alone. Angry. Wasting her life away on her hand-me-down laptop.

What if _Alex _wanted to get high and _break _things? Had Mae considered that?

Well, probably not. Alex had been a lot more focused on her school work up until that semester.

And _look _how that had turned out!

So, yea. _Screw that, _because it was _over._ No use worrying about it anymore. At least she'd never have to worry about homework ever again. Fuck the education system. Like it even mattered with how the economy had tumbled to hell, anyway.

"Alex," Mae said, fluttering their lips.

Alex slowed to a stop – she'd been pacing in circles.

"You needa _chillax, _mah gurl." Mae squirmed their foot around, jiggling it toward their jacket, which was in a heap on the floor. "I got those things you wanted from Chlo-bear. See? _Toldja_ she'd pull through."

Alex froze, paralyzed by the possibilities of what was in store. Had Mae and Chloe _somehow, _against all odds, collectively coordinated their efforts to get Alex her pills?

Apparently, yes, Alex concluded, after frantically scrambling her hands through Mae's jacket.

"Oh, my _farore_," Alex sighed with relief. With some _joy. _"Thank you, thank you, _hohhhh _jeez, I really needed these." She hugged the plastic baggie like a teddy bear.

Mae, eyes closed on their bed, rotated out their hand and flicked their thumb up.

Mae murmured sleepily, "gotchu fam . . ."

Alex downed one of the pills dry – stung a bit on the way down – and switched off the room's light.

She re-adjusted to the dark, slinking back into her bed.

Alex opened up her laptop, its bright white light waking her tired eyes up. She popped on her headphones, a clunky old pair of ancient-looking things her brother Michael had used. They still worked, so...she hadn't gotten rid of them. Same with the laptop, too, actually.

In the pale contrast of the dark bedroom, filled with a white, backlit haze, Alex felt like she was being choked by the light. By the memories of him. By the same _'What if?'_ questions she'd been struggling to put behind her about the night Michael had died.

She'd thought she'd put that shit _behind _her.  
She really had.  
But now, with everything getting stirred back up...-

Alexandra Olas was supposed to be better than this.  
And she was not.  
She couldn't even graduate college.  
She'd choked.  
Like she had back then – when Michael was choking.

Getting through college – she'd _promised _him she was going to go through with it. And she'd failed him. Like she _always _had. Like she'd failed him in his _final _fucking moments. Even _after _he was gone, she was _still _failing him.

_Why _could she just _not _make a shit-storm out of everything?  
Why did her mistakes keep repeating, and repeating?

On the verge of tearing up at the painful memories and thoughts pinching at the edges of her skull, her ears were suddenly filled with a familiar, jarring sound.

Her IM app had reconnected.

[ **Beyonder** ]  
[ v. 8.3.7 ]

Any new messages?

Of course not.

Had Max gotten back to her yet? She checked her recent sent messages.

-( But yea. Suffice it to say that my little outburst didn't go over well. )  
-( And, of course, Clarissa took it as an opportunity to go for the jugular. )  
-( The fucking jaguar she is. )  
-( I've got 'til the end of the month before I'm cut loose. )  
-( So yea. Now I'm looking for work and it sucks hard. )  
-( Like a lot. I have no IDEA where to start. Everywhere feels like a dead end. )  
-( What about you? You mentioned a bigger job you're working on? )  
-( And I heard from Mae that your wife found a gig at an auto shop? )

She'd sent those messages three and a half days ago.

That pervasive little ( _Seen _) indicator at the end of the thread confirmed her worries, and she could feel herself slipping into that spiral of echoing questions, a never-ending loop of anxiety.

Alex let out a sigh as quietly as she could, trying to regain herself. Max had a habit of taking a long time to reply, or even forgetting to reply altogether. It didn't mean she didn't care, right? She just had a busy life.

Busy enough that it no room for Alex in it, maybe.

Alex couldn't help herself. She added more IMs to the conversation.

-( BTW it's been a long time since we've seen each other. )  
-( With the holidays creeping up, I was wondering what you two were up to. )  
-( We might be trying to get something together for New Year's. )  
-( Nothing too huge, probably just go out for drinks, you know? )

Alex drummed her fingertips against the edge of her laptop as she considered how to end her masked attempt at pleading for attention.

-( Think you'd be interested? )

After tapping her { Enter } key and letting that be that, she minimized the Beyonder app.

She opened up her web browser to try and resume what she'd been doing before Mae had gotten home. The episode of questionably uploaded television she'd been watching had been thrown all out of whack from shutting her computer into sleep mode. She'd have to re-buffer the whole damn episode just to pick up where she left. Screw that. She was _not _in the mood.

Her web browser still had The Augmented Eye open from an 'anti-millennial' click-bait article...which had redirected her to another piece reinforcing her frustration with the economy, which had redirected her to a fluff piece about some night club downtown. She'd gotten so worked up over the first two that she'd left a multi-paragraph comment railing on the author bashing millennials. Really blunt, like a boot up the ass.

Alex didn't even know why she still read The Augmented Eye, but it was probably for the same reason her parents still watched MTT News – it was easier that way.

Alex caught her drifting, sleepy brain wandering toward self-loathing thoughts about her own complicity and helplessness to change anything wrong with..._everything_. But before she slipped off the edge and into the abyss of it all, her phone lit up from the edge of her bed. Her eyes darted right to it.

Shit.  
It was Clarissa.

( We need to talk. )-  
( Tomorrow. )-

Alex could _feel _her teeth clenching against each other, and she had to consciously loosen her jaws. Her brain bounced between, like, three different responses, simultaneously. She tried to type one out.

-( Oh, so you can re-hash the same tired bullshit all over again?)  
She deleted it. She tried again.

-( Why are you on my back so much lately? What did I ever )  
_Damnit. No. Delete, delete. Try again._

_-_( Why? )

Satisfied with such a simple, short text, she fired it away. She then set her phone face down on her bed and went back to her laptop.

She'd gotten an IM on Beyonder from someone with the handle **( The_Unseeing_Sister )**.

( Is this Paradoxical-Alex? )-  
( A user who comments on the Augmented Eye. )-

What the hell? Why was someone looking up her contact info? Was this about that comment she'd left?

She replied, intently perplexed.

-( Yes. )  
-( Why? )  
-( Who is this? )

They answered instantly.

( I saw your rather 'passionate' comment on Dawson's article. )-  
( You realize he is the Editor in Chief of the publication, do you not? )-

Alex responded,  
-( Oh. ^_^; Yeaaaaa... )  
-( If that chauvinistic asshole is free to spew actual garbage out onto the net, )  
-( I'm certainly allowed to try to clean up the mess he leaves behind. )

The other said,  
( Hm. An intriguing way of looking at it. )-  
( Especially seeing as how he could banish you in an instant. )-

-( From the website? LOL )  
-( Yea, I think I wouldn't care so much tbh. )  
-( It's a toxic waste dump of the internet. )

( Well, not as much as channel. . . )-  
( ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )- – _a 'Lenny Face'? Pff._

-( fffffff xD )  
-( Good point. )  
-( But, still. )  
-( Being banned from the AE would be like a badge of pride. )

( Hm. I suppose I can understand. )-  
( But a piece of advice: burning bridges and cutting ties – this cannot be undone. )-

-( When it's from a poisonous jerk who just uses people for attention? )  
-( I think I'll make an exception. )

( A fair perspective. I am merely giving my own. )-

-( Sure. I'm curious, though. . . )  
-( What do you really want with me? )

( Hm. ;) )- – _a winky-face?_  
( A sharp one, aren't you? )-

-( Not sharp enough, apparently. =_= )

( What makes you say that? )-

-( Oh, I don't know, letting my brother die? Dropping out of college? Ruining my fu )  
_Argh, no. Stop. Delete. You don't even know who this person is.  
_Alex re-worked an alternate reply.

-( Not feeling so great about my decision-making skills lately. =S )

( Every choice one makes is like a swing of the sword. )-  
( It cannot be undone. )-  
( If a sword strikes air, no harm done. Or so it seems. )-  
( However, )-  
( if it cuts down a bridge, )-  
( severs a connection, )-  
( ends a life? )-  
( Words, as well. )-  
( Words, once spoken, printed, written, laid out. . . )-  
( These cannot be undone. )-  
( Even when one thinks they can. )-

Huh. A bit of a poet, this one?  
-( So the pen – or the keyboard, as it were – really is mightier than the sword. )

( Ha! I suppose when you've spent as long as I have wandering through endless words. . . )-  
( you lose sight of how simple it is to express such thoughts. )-

Hoh, jeez. Maybe Alex had stumbled into someone she'd regret humoring.  
-( Too much time on channel, huh? ^^;; )

( Perhaps. )-

-( The toilet of the internet, amirite? )

( And here you and I are, wayward fecal specks colliding by way of its swirling whirlpool. )-

Alex could feel her brows furrow into an amused but perplexed expression.  
She nearly belted out a laugh, but contained it so as to not wake Mae.  
-( Uh )  
-( x'D )  
-( When you put it like that. . . )  
-( Though it also doubles as a metaphor for my whole life. )

( Oh? Many sword strikes swung through the walls of your own home? )-

-( Something like that. )

( This I can relate with. )-

-( Is that so? )

( It is so. )-  
( But I inquired first. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )- - _again with the Lenny Face. A bit spicy, this one._

-( fffff )  
-( TBH I don't even know where I'd start. )  
-( The part where I helplessly watched my brother drown in front of )  
Alex stopped herself.  
_DAMNIT, Alex, what is wrong with you?  
This is a fucking stranger, they're not interested in your whole life story._

Even though she deleted the words, it was just as this rando had said:  
the thought could not be undone, even if the act of typing out the words had been.  
When asked about her life, who she was, _why _did it always gravitate so quickly  
to _him?  
_To Michael.  
And then instantly to how fucked up she was?

She ultimately left her reply at  
-( TBH I don't even know where I'd start. )  
yet now found the weight of that truth quite heavy.

( The first step toward rehabilitation is the most difficult. )-  
( I have learned this the hard way. )-  
( We shall reserve such talk for when you _do _know where to start. )-

-( You make it sound like we're friends or something. )

( Ha! Such a thought I'd never fancy, worry not. )-  
( Make no mistake, )-  
( Paradoxical-Alex, )-  
( I am simply a gatherer of information. )-

Alex was confused. It actually..._hurt _a little.  
Yep. Definitely stung.  
She was so bad at keeping friends she was getting rejected even before she cared.  
What. The hell.  
And here she was, keeping a top on all of her trauma from spilling out.  
God _damn, _she was too fucking hungry for human contact.  
She hated it.

-( Gatherer of information. . . )  
-( Speaking in flowery riddles. . . ಠ_ಠ )  
-( Making 'inquiries' to randos on the Augmented Eye. . . )  
-( So, are you a writer, or something? )

( Ha! I've not thought to call myself as such, but maybe you are on to something. . . )-

-( What makes you say that? )

( Does a pen, mighty as it may be, wield power in and of itself? )-  
( Does a keyboard consider itself a writer? )-  
( If so, then I suppose I am one. )-  
( And you, here and now, for a time, )-  
( are my Reader. (¬‿¬) )-

OK. Uh-huh. All right.  
Alex was confused.  
But this person was certainly interesting.  
And, you know. Actually responding when she said things?  
Kind of a nice plus.  
So they were probably some kind of lackey at the AE.  
Or maybe one of its competitors?  
Hm, they seemed freelance, maybe.  
Well, whatever. _Who_ever. They were chatty.  
Alex liked that.

-( Well. I suppose I am. )  
-( You know, here and now, at least. )  
-( For a time. ;D )

( Time: such a thing is far more valuable than many realize. )-

Something about this remark really struck a chord in Alex's gut.  
She found herself nodding in agreement to the light of her laptop's screen in the dark.

-( I'm with you, there. )  
-( Explain that to my family when I try to tell them what a waste college was. )

( Was? Your profile states that you are a student of Blackwell University. )-

-( Oh, ha. ^_^';; Yea, I was. Until this month. )  
Damnit, she needed to start. . .going around and updating that crap.  
Her entire _life _needed an 'update.'  
But switching every profile over from 'Hopeful Student' to 'Pessimistic Addict?'  
Yea. She wasn't in a rush to go blasting that on social media.

( Why do you feel your time there was a waste? )-

-( A LOT of reasons. Too many to get into right now. )

( Yet another future footstep in your path to rehabilitation. )-

That word – 'rehabilitation' – rubbed Alex all kinds of wrong.  
But she wasn't going to let one irritating word ruin what was going on here.  
-( Wow, so I'm a case study for you, now? )  
-( You gonna write some character based on me? :P )

( It is quite enough energy to write my _own _self as it is. )-  
( It takes all of my being. )-  
( To will into existence someone else – someone real – is far beyond my capabilities. )-  
( Though, perhaps, not impossible with the right assistance. . . )-

-( Sooooo )  
-( That's a 'no,' then. xD )  
-( I was joking, btw. )

( I do not joke. )-  
( I do not tell stories. )-  
( I collect information. )-  
( And I distribute it in kind, so others may learn what they need to. )-  
( When they need to. )-

-( Isn't that what a story is in the first place? )  
-( That's its purpose, in a way, isn't it? )

Alex saw the animated ( . . . ) of a reply being typed, only to see it stop a split second later.

A pause in their conversation before she received a response.

( You amuse me, Paradoxical-Alex. )-

-( You can just call me Alex. )

( I can call you whatever pleases me. ;D )-

-( It's a free country, I guess. )

( But not a free city. )-

-( Huh? )

( On that subject, how long have you lived here? )-

-( 'Here?' )

( Arcadia. )-

Alex was a bit irked. How did this stranger know where they lived?

( According to your profile, you reside in Arcadia. )-  
( Is this, too, incorrect? )-

_Oh. Doy._  
-( Ah, yea. Still here. )  
-( Feeling a bit stuck, actually. )

( I think I know the feeling. . .)-

-( How so? )

( Ha. A tale too complex for the crossroads we currently traverse. )-

_Um. A plain '_don't wanna talk about it' _would've worked fine._  
-( Oh. Well, mine is simple. )  
-( I dropped out of college. )

( You lost interest in learning? )-

-( More like it lost interest in _me_. )

( Ha. I suppose knowledge has a tendency to elude our pursuits... )-

-( My roommate's a dropout, too. )  
-( Birds of a feather, I guess. )

( Flocking together. )-

-( Pathetically crash landing into the same nest, I'd say. )

( I see. )-  
( That it a shame. )-

That was it for a bit.  
Alex waited a few minutes.  
But the stranger didn't say more.  
Damnit, now she looked like some mopey loser.  
Her mind began wandering to places she didn't like.  
She checked her phone, out of habit. She regretted doing so.  
Even this late, and sure enough. . .a reply.

( From: Clarissa )  
( Why? Because you are SLIPPING. )-  
( I promised Michael I'd keep an eye on you. )-  
( Try to help take care of you. )-  
( Your parents sure as hell aren't. )-

Alex rolled her weary, bloodshot eyes at this.  
Of _course _Clarissa would bring that up.  
Like some errant request her brother had once made at some point  
somehow _justified _her pushing Alex out of her own family.  
What wreckage was _left _of her family, anyway.  
Aaaaand Clarissa was still at it.

( Don't even get me started on how you broke the promise YOU made to him. )-  
( Which you could still fix, you know. )-  
( I've been talking with Jonas, and there are community options. )-

-( WTF )  
-( You BARELY even knew Michael )  
-( and here you are, plotting with my step-brother over MY future? )

( I knew him better than you think, Alex. )-  
( Don't pull this whiney shit with me again. )-  
( We could argue all day over this. We have, and I am SICK of it. )-

Alex could feel her chest pounding from anxiety.  
That ( . . . ) animation of a text being typed was nerve-wracking now.

( But right here, right now? )-  
( You fucked up. )-  
( Honor your brother's memory and FINISH what you started. )-  
( Jonas is picking you up tomorrow, )-  
( and you are going to stop hiding from this. )-

Her eyes watered from fear and dread and anger.  
Alex locked her phone. She flipped it face down again.  
She checked her Beyonder app on her laptop.

( I see. )-  
( That it a shame. )-  
Same message as before.

She didn't want the conversation to end, but didn't know where to take it.  
Alex caught herself stammering – in text form.  
Which meant she was invested in this, whatever this was.

-( Anyways, I, um )  
-( if it matters... )

( It does. )-  
( Every single word. )-

Alex's heart fluttered with relief at the instant reply.  
But she gave pause at this.  
She _knew _this stranger wasn't referring to her, specifically.  
Waxing poetic about the power of words, yadda-yadda.  
But she couldn't help but feed on the attention.

-( I'm taking some time off. )

Agh, fuck. That sounded so-...so like her life was a disastrous wreck.  
It _was, _of course. But she needed to set a better impression.  
But she couldn't just _lie._

( Time off to do what, precisely? )-

-( Just to, I dunno, readjust my priorities. )  
-( Figure out what I want to do. )

( With your time. )-  
( That which you possess. )-

-( R-right, yea. )

( 俳句 : )-  
( Generating words )-  
( Thoughts given form in some way )-  
( Directly to you )-

Alex was left aghast for a moment.  
She copy-pasted the text ' 俳句' into her web browser.  
Looked like it meant 'haiku.'  
Huh. Well, speaking of waxing poetic...  
Oh, another one?

( Paradoxical )-  
( I cannot help but wonder )-  
( Are you whom I seek? )-

Alex wasn't sure what was going on.  
But she would reply in kind, counting syllables with her finger.

-( Sought by no one, I, )  
-( Like a ripple in the sea, )  
-( Echo eternally )

( Ripples of you, yes )-  
( I cannot see but detect )-  
( A paradox, to be sure )-

-( Life doesn't make sense )  
-( I gave up trying to see )  
-( A future for me )

( Intriguing, you are, )-  
( A book opened, pages wet )-  
( The ink merged with the ocean )-

-( I'd love to keep this up, )  
-( but it is LATE )  
-( and my eyes are drooping )  
-( I can barely keep them open. -_- )

( You should let them close )-  
( A wealth can be discovered )-  
( When one's eyes are shut )-

-( Heh. Maybe so. ^u^' )  
-( Well, it's been fun. )  
Alex yawned, letting her eyes slide closed as she waited.

Ripples in the ocean water.  
Moonlight in the reflection.  
Shattered.  
Bubbles. Dissipated.  
But the ripples kept going.  
And going.

Damn, Alex was really nodding off. . .  
She'd started slipping into slumber, there.  
She had to wrap this up.  
She yawned again, drizzling out more text with one hand, her chin sitting the other.  
-( nice to meet you )  
-( uh.. )  
-( what's your name )

( You may call me Sandra. )-  
( I do wish for us to speak like this again. )-

-( i'll be on tomorrow night )  
-( you should give me something to read )

( Ha. Indeed, I suppose I shall. )-  
( Despite my oddities, you still wish to read what I might have to say? )-

Alex rubbed at her eyes, blinked, and tried to be more coherent for the end.  
-( Oddities? )  
-( We're all odd. )

( I must warn you, I am more 'odd' than most. )-

-( Good. :) )  
-( Odd is interesting. )

( Ha. The feeling is mutual. )-  
( The sentiment, rather. )-  
( So, it is agreed, then? )-  
( I shall try to Write. )-  
( And you shall be my Reader. )-  
( Despite my inadequacies. )-

-( Inadequacies? )  
-( Pfff, whatever. ;P )  
-( I'm sure it'll be fun. )  
-( It's something to do. Right? )

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

_Frisk and Toriel originate from __**Undertale **__(toby fox)_**  
**_Aloy originates from __**Horizon: Zero Dawn **__(Guerrilla Games)__**  
**__Lena ('Tracer'), Ana, and Brigitte originate from __**Overwatch **__(Blizzard)__**  
**__Jill and Gillian originate from __**VA-11 HALL-A **__(Sukeban Games)__**  
**__Max and Chloe originate from __**Life is Strange **__(DontNod)__**  
**__Mae and Gregg originate from __**Night in the Woods **__(Infinite Fall)__**  
**__Alex originates from __**Oxenfree **__(Night School Studio)__**  
**__Sandra originates from __**Pyre **__(Supergiant Games)_


	2. Episode 2

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)

**Episode 2**

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

Flashing lights, bit-crushed sound effects, the steady whirring of tickets spewing out of machines, the jangling of metal tokens...and the rolling of skee-balls up their lanes. The _-clack-clack-clack- _of plastic, tethered guns being fired into monitor screens...

The chaos had become pleasant to her. It wasn't unlike the Web – a maelstrom of noise and colors and smells and tastes. The touches, though, were her favorite. Her palms against the grooved grip of a plastic gun. The smooth sphere of an arcade joystick pinched nimbly between her fingers, and the clacking pressure of those big, concave buttons being tapped. The rubbery surface of a battered steering wheel clenched in her grasp, the way the metal pedal resisted her foot just a little as she feathered the brakes to make that tricky turn. The imperfect but satisfying texture of a skee-ball rolling down her fingertips. The rough tear of tickets from machines, and the subtle weight of adding them to the stack she kept in her coat pocket.

Within a musty old building at the corner of Beck and Main, Olivia Calomar found a certain kind of harmonized rhythm within the chaos of Flynn's Arcade.

_\- Rrrmm, Rrrmm -_

And, as usual, there was always someone trying to pull her out of that zen zone.

( From: **Al** )  
( have you found someone yet? )-

Fucking A, man. Couldn't cut her a break, unh? She had a day life.

Olivia's thumb was a precision instrument – one she had come to waste on menial tasks such as texting. She effortlessly tapped out a reply as she lobbed more skee-balls with the opposing hand.

-( Yet? What's with this "yet?" )  
-( I thought you were still tinkering with the last one. )

( oh um sort of! )-  
( it's still quite limited )-  
( very uncooperative you could say )-  
( but! we've managed to turn it into a )-  
( happy accident! )-  
( kyouma has his own schemes in mind. )-

Ha. 'Happy accident,' huh? Well, if that's how they were going to look at it...

-( So heard... )  
-( Speaking of, I'm borrowing one of those 'happy accidents' myself. )

It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Olivia started another round of skee-ball, focusing her aim this time.

( no problem! )-  
( as long as you have clearance )-

_Heh. I __**always **__have 'clearance'.  
_Olivia spun a new skee-ball between her nimble fingers, rolling it deftly down the middle of the lane, straight into the center target.

-( I've been meaning to take one under my wing. )  
-( But I'll be sure to put it back every night. )

( its tethered yes? )-

-( Of course. )  
-( Wouldn't want our pet running off, right? )  
-( I think one of them can help me track down a compatible match. )  
-( For your next 'happy accident.' )

In fact, she already _had _a possible match locked in. Was expecting a result in a day or two.  
But she didn't want to mention that. Too excitable.

( oh! interesting! )-  
( letting it run around on a leash? )-  
( sniffing out its own kind? )-  
( I hadn't even thought of that. . )-

_Given your occupation, you could stand to think of more than what's right in front of you. . ._

( but now we understand what went wrong. . )-  
( SO! )-  
( they want us. . )-  
( to test a new patient! :o ASAP! )-

_Oh, I'm sure they do. . .  
_

Olivia's stomach lurched a bit at the memory of the acquisition of their previous 'experiment.'  
Hopefully this new one would be less messy, but...there was really no telling.  
She kept her hand steady, though – bulls-eye, landed another in the center.

-( Guessing that's where I come in? )  
-( Like I don't have enough to worry about right now. )

Tickets, tickets.  
Not as many as she had hoped for that night. A little light of a load.

( u know how the higher ups get.. )-  
( always pushing for more. =_= )-  
( but i think we've made a breakthrough this time! :I )-  
( we're close! I know it! )-

Olivia sighed bitterly, stuffing her ticket trove into her coat.

-( You know what that translates to for me? )  
-( More work. )

( sorry liv. just doing my diligence. )-  
( it's not like you won't get paid for the extra work. . )-

_Yea, yea…_

The money wasn't the point anymore. It had gotten more complicated than that.

Olivia wiped her fingers from the shaved side of her head down her finely tuned mane of black and purple, drizzling out a sigh through fluttered lips.

If she refused the Doctor Alphys' request, it could have ramifications with the folks whose pocket she was trapped in, which meant ramifications on an _assload _of others. She'd spent her whole life learning how to play people, only to get played herself. For now, at least, it was easier to just go along with it. Pretend that the plastic gun was real. Pretend the crane machine wasn't rigged. Pretend that all of the flashing lights and bit-crushed sounds weren't just there to excite chemicals in the brain.

Pretend that what she was involved with was just fine.

-( Fine. )

-( Like I said, I'll need to use one of the previous experiments. )

Clearly, she didn't need permission since she'd _already _enacted this, but she had to cover her bases, just in case the doc here looked into things.

-( I think I may have a lead. )  
-( Give me a day or two. )

( roger that! )-  
( plz keep me posted! )-  
( there's work to be done! )-  
( ;D )-

Olivia just gaped at the bizarrely enthusiastic tone of that entire text chain. Then again, different strokes for different folks, right?

She needed a drink. But it was too early for that. Well, OK, it was _never _too early for that, but she had to pace herself that day. Lots to do, after all.

As much as Olivia relished the chaos of the arcade, much like the Internet, there were always dark corners she enjoyed lurking, as well.

She swaggered over to the ticket prize counter, wearing a friendly face to greet a familiar one.

The woman behind the counter lit up softly when their eyes met – like a cell phone screen in a dark room, its brightness dimmed so as to not be too harsh upon unlocking. She had her messy, brown hair in kind of a half-up do with a handful of it shoved into a bun at the back of her head. She had soft features to her face, but this was easily forgotten with how sharp of an attitude she often carried.

She was a bit of a butch chick, not really curved at all, with surprisingly sturdy arms. Her sleeves were often rolled up to reveal her right arm, branded by a large, fern-themed tattoo of black ink. But it was the woman's eyes that always got you. There was a dark fire that burned behind them. Olivia liked it.

"Oh, _hey_, Liv," greeted the woman. Her arcade uniform almost looked like a prisoner's getup. Might as well have been, right? With what Olivia knew, anyway. The woman had been slouched against the back counter, but upon seeing Olivia, she'd perked up.

"¿Qué _onda_?" Olivia replied, wriggling her slender fingers in a playful wave.

"Been a while," said the worker, unslouching from her position over the glass prize counter. "How's, uh-...How's tricks?" She fidgeted her arms around one another, trying to play cool.

"_Wow_," Olivia murmured, raising as brow as she hovered over the glass case. "You are _too _happy to see me, El."

The worker _'psh'd' _out a dismissive breath and scratched at her freckly cheek with a bashful shrug.

"What? _No_, I just-..._Ya _know." El awkwardly shrugged a second time. Olivia continued to peruse the prizes, leaving the woman to stew a bit. And then the bait was taken. "I mean-..._Should _I be happy to see you?"

"Heh." Olivia's lips curved into a smirk as she produced her humble batch of ticket earnings for the day. "Guess that depends, mi amiga." She tapped her violet fingernail against the glass, directing it at a small bin of tiny, plastic soldiers. As El retrieved one of them, Olivia rested her cheek in her palm, leaning casually over the counter, pouting out her lips just a little.

"It depends on...what? Exactly?" El wondered, setting a single plastic soldier on the countertop. El was amused but definitely nervous. Just where Olivia wanted her.

Olivia knew she had some currency to spare. Tapping her chin coyly, she surveyed the assorted items below her. What to pick, what-to-pick...?

Poor El was hanging on her every minute motion. Liv felt a little bad, but it was too fun. Pobre chica. Olivia would make it all up to her eventually. Probably. Assuming this all didn't blow up in their faces first.

"Liv?" El probed, scratching at her neck sheepishly as she cast worried glances across the arcade. "You're making me nervous, here...I-I mean, do you have...a _job _you need me to do, or...-?"

"Don't _worry_ so much, Ellie," Olivia assured in slow, playful syllables. "It's not _that _kind of request." She flicked her eyebrows up once. "_This _time."

"Oh?" The tension in Ellie's shoulders loosened, the muscles in her arms softening.

"Nah-nah-nah," Liv cooed with a grin. "Just a little _information_."

"What _kind?_" said Ellie, her worry withering into irritation.

"One of your, um..._customers_," Liv said carefully yet casually. "I'm looking for someone who might be in need of work."

Ellie's brows furrowed. Olivia couldn't help but feel an odd little kinship with the way both of their eyebrows had scars swathed across them. Though Liv was certain that the story behind El's was much more exciting than her own.

"_I'm _fucking in need of 'work,'" Ellie grumbled impatiently.

"_Trust _me," assured Liv, "This is _not _the kind of work you want..."

"_Ooooof _course," Ellie sighed, tossing back her head and flicking up her wrists. "More of _this_. The vague, cryptic bullshit."

"It's _just _one little request, Ellie. And you _know _me owing you a favor is gonna pay off later."

Olivia delighted at the way Ellie's narrowed eyes locked onto hers. The rusted cogs in Ellie's brain clicking into place, the twitch of her lower lip as impatient curiosity – if not desperation – got the better of her.

"Fine, fine." Ellie's eyes dulled as her chin sagged into her collarbone. "_What _is it?"

"I have a name," Olivia stated plainly. "What I _need_ is an address. Or, at least a phone number."

"You _know _I can't give you that," El hissed in a hushed voice, leaning in close. "Pick your _stupid _prize and leave me alone. Get back to me when you've got _work _for me."

"Aw, giving up so soon, enh?" Liv flicked her plastic soldier down with a gentle nudge. Glancing back to Ellie, she cited, "No _wonder_ you're still stuck here. Where's that _ambition _you had last time?"

"Man, _fuck _you," Ellie growled under her breath, her face flaring briefly, like a lion remembering the thorn in its foot.

_-clack-clack-clack-_

Someone nearby was firing off a plastic gun into a screen. A photodiode was nestled within the toy. Its sensory scope was limited by the narrow barrel of a plastic gun. Upon pulling the trigger, the photodiode would either detect a desired target and register a hit, or pick up a miss while aimed at anything otherwise.

The trick to this machine? The entire screen would flash in a microsecond upon the gun's trigger being pulled. For just the blink of an eye, intended targets would be displayed in white, while the rest of the screen would go pitch black.

Blanco? Bingo.  
Negra? Nada.

As Ellie crossed her arms and flicked out a dismissive wrist, Olivia knew she had to pull the trigger. Light up the screen.

"_OK, _OK," Olivia sighed slowly, hands on her hips as she gawked down at the _gaudy _carpet below. "Look," she shrugged, flashing Ellie a solemn look. "I _know _what you are looking for. Why you put up with the jobs I've been giving you."

Ellie's scowl remained stiff, her brows furrowing slightly. Olivia admired the scar swathed across Ellie's right brow. Unlike Olivia's brows – both trimmed with a deliberate cut through – El's was not self-imposed. Uneven, unintended, but endured. Hylia knew what kind of things this woman had seen. A refugee of sorts, from what Liv had been able to dredge up. For all Olivia had been through to escape where she'd come from, she had always kept to the shadows. This poor lady? Seemed like she'd been dragged _out _of that safety on more than one occasion. Been in the military, for one, but something hadn't panned out right with that. Liv intended to dig deeper after more pressing things were dealt with.

"What're you talking about?" Ellie asked, her eyes darting around the arcade.

Olivia leaned over the counter, elbows on the glass, chin perched upon her wrists, and smiled.

"You're _looking _for someone," Olivia cited quietly. "_Juhhhst _like I am. You sell your wares in secrecy – or in coded currencies." She plucked her toy soldier from the countertop – it had been purchased with tickets, earned in a trial, paid for with coin. "Mediums of exchange, they're all different depending on the person, the place. Me? My trade deals in information."

"So-...What, are you...black-mailing me?" Ellie grumbled, confused.

Olivia raised her cleanly cut brow, puckering her lips with a touch of disappointment.

"Ellie, _Ellie_," she cooed. "I would never do that to _you_." She winked, rotating the toy soldier in her dexterous fingers. "_Your_ skills? They're too valuable. And aren't we friends, here? I'm making you an _offer, _mi amiga."

Ellie sighed and shrugged impatiently. But this was something Olivia liked about her – to the point.

Liv clarified, "We make an arrangement – trade information for information."

Ellie shook her head slightly, her eyes rolling a little.

"The hell kind of 'information' do you think _I've _got that's worth 'trading?'"

"Heh." Olivia poised herself upright, fiddling with her little toy soldier. "Any card on its own is worth nothing. But if you get the right ones to pair it with? You've got yourself a Royal Flush."

Ellie fluttered her lips, her edge wearing off somewhat.

"You _know _I don't do metaphors," she grumbled.

"More of a 'pun' girl, right?" Liv recalled. At this, Ellie rolled her eyes and smirked. But the respite of humor was dusted off.

"How do you know I'm looking for someone?" Ellie asked, eyeing a kid running by whilst a distraught father gave chase. Ellie's eyes came back to Liv. "Did ya go digging up dirt on me, or something?"

Lightly tossing and catching her miniature toy before catching it, Olivia replied, "You think I would've hired you in the first place _without _doing a little research?"

Ellie's face went a little awry at this and she chewed her lip.

"What do you _know_?" Ellie asked quietly, grimly.

Olivia shrugged nonchalantly. Perhaps with a bout of charity, she replied honestly: "Not _much. _You're not from around here. You seem to have covered your tracks pretty well."

"_Pfff_, yea, that's...-" Ellie scoffed through her nose, shaking her head slightly. "I'd like to _keep _those tracks covered."

"As would I," Liv assured.

Ellie skeptically considered, "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't," Liv said simply. "But I could ask the same thing, enh?" She shrugged up one shoulder. "Fact is, we've been doing this...-" She wriggled her fingers around. "-...mutual back-scratching for some time now. Why not take it to the next step? What have you got to lose?"

"Uh, my _job?_" Ellie whispered incredulously.

Olivia, still fidgeting with the small army figure, chuckled quietly, bemused.

"My _other _job," Ellie specified, even quieter.

"Look," Olivia said, beginning to grow tired of this whole scene. She was ready to exit stage right, but her acting partner had forgotten her lines, apparently. "You think I don't know how to cover tracks? Keep you under the radar? The fuck do think I've _been _doing? After our _last _job?"

Ellie shrugged warily at Olivia's wide-eyed stare.

Liv concluded, "And anyway, I'm _pretty _sure there's worse things to be worrying about here than client confidentiality, don't you think?"

Ellie bit her lip some more. And there it was – that smolder in her eyes, that dark fire lighting up. Like a screen-saver activating, dimming the monitor to black, save for some wiggling, bouncing shape. Preserving pixels.

"I'm _just _saying," Olivia sighed, her eyes sliding coyly to the arcade around them. "I've got as much to lose as you do, El. But we could stand to gain more from each other."

Ellie was mulling it over, scratching at her neck, pacing uncertainly a bit. She paused, flicking her head to Liv to ask, "You _really _think you can help me find her?"

Olivia nodded. It was time for simplicity.

"Whoever it is you're trying to find, I've got my connections. I'm sure I can come up with something."

"And you're saying," Ellie mumbled, scanning the arcade some more as she spoke in careful syllables. "I give you updates on..._whatever _it is you think I know that's worth shit, and _you're _gonna...-" Ellie tried to mimic Liv's finger-wriggling. "-...scratch some _backs _for me?"

Olivia snickered a bit at Ellie's...awkward, adorable Ellie-ness.

"Something like that," she assured with an amused smile. "Win-win, right?"

"_Puh_," Ellie puffed with disbelief, scratching her nose warily. "There _is _no such thing as 'win-win," she mumbled, pawing at a metal necklace that hung beneath her shirt, "because _someone _gets fucked _somewhere _down the line." Huh. Stainless steel ball chain – the kind you put a dog tag on.

Olivia at last stuffed her hands into her coat pockets, her small prize in a balled fist. She stared at Ellie thoughtfully.

"Guess that's true," she conceded. "But aren't you sick and tired of being the one at the bottom of that line?"

Ellie's glance was hesitant, avoiding Olivia's. She popped up her shoulders into a shrug.

"Ahhh, ah-ah, _see_?" Olivia quipped. She snapped her fingers and pointed at Ellie. "It's _that _kind of attitude that keeps you _stuck _down here."

Like the screen-saver switching off – a mouse movement, a keystroke – Ellie caught sight of something that jarred her back to work-mode.

"My shift's supposed to be over now," Ellie grunted, tidying up the tickets that Liv had dispensed. She spoke quickly and quietly. "Give me a day to think on this shit. I'll be here tomorrow, same time. We'll meet out back. _Heyyy_," she suddenly greeted her co-worker with a plastic tone.

"Hiii~" chirped the approaching figure.

Hm. Olivia took note of the time. She took note of Ellie's co-worker: some preppy, peppy, college-aged part-timer with a voice too squeaky for Olivia's liking.

Hands in her jacket pockets, Olivia began to slip off, away from the counter, tiny toy soldier tucked into her pocket.

"Well?" she said, tilting her head up at Ellie. "I'm out of here."

Ellie bobbed her head up in a silent acknowledgment as Olivia disappeared into the chaos of lights and sounds beyond.

"Who was that?" asked Ellie's co-worker, noticing this gesture.

"Oh, _uh, _a pal of mine," Ellie mumbled with a casual shrug.

"_You? _Pals with someone?" taunted her co-worker, belting out a squeaky giggle at her own joke. "_Ahhh, _anyway. You better introduce me next time!"

"Uh...Sure," grunted Ellie with an uncertain nod.

"Well! I am _super-duper _sorry I'm late! School stuff."

"Right. No problem." Ellie was gathering her bearings.

"But! I've got things from here," assured Ellie's co-worker with a beaming grin. "The Boss-man said I should be able to handle a shift on my own, finally. So. You're good to go! See you tomorrow!"

"Y-Yea. See ya." Ellie managed to fumble her way out of the booth, to the cramped 'office' in the back of the arcade, and logged herself out of work. The whole process was a blur, her mind swimming in adrenaline as she made for the backdoor, her head spinning with hopes and fears.

After all this time, was it even _possible? _Could Ellie even still find her? Could Olivia really have enough connections to make that happen? And if she did, what the _fuck _did she care what Ellie knew?

Bumping the backdoor open with her shoulder, Ellie escaped into the arcade's parking lot, her-

"Took yer sweet time gettin' off work."Ellie froze at the sound of his weak, grizzled voice from her left.

There he was, the old codger, leaned up against the back wall like always. A rough and tattered brown leather coat, worn out jeans, and faded boots. A nice smear of uneven hairs made for a beard across his wrinkled face.

"Something came up," Ellie grumbled, walking right past him, heading straight for her car. _Shit, _was it cold out.

He followed her to their vehicle.

"You _do _remember we got other things to tend to, doncha?" he grumbled over her shoulder.

"Yea," she snapped impatiently. She was _so _not in the mood for this shit.

Ellie fumbled with her keychain, trying to grab the right one to unlock her damn car. Her hands were shaking.

"Yer head's floatin' up in the clouds, can see it all over yer face," he growled with dissatisfaction, rounding his way to the passenger seat. "Gonna need ya back down on _earth._" He snapped his fingers at her, and she flinched from the suddenness of it. "Got _shit _to do."

"The irony," she grumbled, referring to his 'on earth' statement.

"_What _was what?" he growled with offense.

Nibbling at her dried lip, Ellie managed to get her trembling hands to cooperate and open the car. She didn't reply.

"'Bout damn time," he sighed under his breath, huffing his dissatisfaction and making it very apparent to her – as usual.

As she entered her car with a tired slouch, Ellie dwelt on the idea of leaving him behind, with how much of a prick he was being. As she slammed the driver side door shut, however, she reminded herself of what the consequences of actually leaving him would entail.

Besides, she needed him as much as he did her.

It had been that way for a long time.

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

Ellie's hands did not shake. She gawked at her open palm for a moment of dumbfounded bliss. Her hands were not shaking. Taking in a dizzied breath and letting her self-medication sink in, she twisted and tweaked at the tuning keys on her guitar.

"You sure now's a good time fer that?" his gruffy voice grumbled from over her shoulder.

Ellie sighed, letting herself sink into the worn-down lawnchair, coddling her old guitar – one _he'd _given to her. Shouldn't he be happy to hear her play it? He'd taught her himself, after all.

Ellie let a chord slide out, the nylon numb against her cold, calloused thumb.

"'Ey," he grumbled with a huff from behind her. "What'd I _just _say?"

Ellie slapped the chord quiet with her palm, drumming her fingers irritably against the wood of the guitar.

"Joel givin' you shit again?" grunted out Ellie's business partner with a sleepy yawn from across the campfire. "Just play, I don't mind."

A silence fell over the lot of them, the crackling of firewood and the distant sloshing of the ocean's waves the only sounds needed to keep the tension from rising. Ellie's associate sipped loudly at his can of beer, and she could _feel _his protective stare cutting through the flickering flames. All the while, she stared down at her tired, hesitant fingers, lingering beside taught strings.

"_Engnh_," Joel groaned out quietly, testily, dismissively. Ellie could _feel _that grouchy way he'd pace around. Palm rubbing against his scraggly face. Head shaking slightly, uneasily. She tried to ignore him, but the feeling lingered so potently, as it often did when he made himself present.

Ellie chewed at her lip as Joel nagged and scratched at the back of her consciousness.

"C'mon," Ellie's partner eased, lightening his tone. "Go for it, El. Ignore the prick."

Ellie shoved greasy, loose hair strands back over her skull and took a deep breath.

Another discontent grunt from Joel.

Ellie moved her hand, ready to strum. She opened her lips, ready to sing.

She struck the strings, their-  
"We hauled ass to get _down _to this trash heap," Joel grumbled bitterly, "just so ya'll can piss our time away while that _hellcat _is out there, blowin' up a storm in _our _backyard? In **our **backyard."

He'd gone and done it – he'd made Ellie's hands start shaking again. She clamped her palm against the faded wood with a bitter scowl. She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying her damnedest to ignore his complaining.

"I just-..." she tried to explain, "I need _five _fucking minutes to...-"

"We don't _got _five minutes," Joel huffed, making Ellie flinch. "Yer little friend is moseyin' on down here without a goddamn _clue. _'N _we _got no idea how we're settlin' this mess." He glowered over her shoulder and hissed into her ear,"What is the _plan_, here? Huh?"

"I don't-..." Ellie pounded her palm into her knee with impatience. Her head felt like it could burst from the tension.

"You all right?" called out Ellie's business partner from his side of the campfire. His dog belted out a bark in response to the hostilities. "Pompidou! Calm yourself," he grunted, giving his mutt a scratch on the ears as he sighed.

"It's fine, Frank," Ellie eased, trying to keep herself steady. "He's just...being a _grouch _tonight."

"Ain't he _always, _though?" Frank sighed, shifting his baseball cap around to scratch at his matted, light brown hair. Ellie had once known another man named 'Frank.' Hadn't taken to him so much. This 'Frank,' though? He understood Ellie somehow. Frank Bowers was his name. A muddy-blonde haired middle-aged coot who been in the business of drug dealing for quite some time, often relying on local Blackwell University students as his clientele. He had a worn look to him, sunken eyes, and a snarly voice of gravel, but beneath the veneer he was actually an all right guy with a soft heart.

Maybe that was Ellie's problem, though – she kept trusting gravel-edged men with 'soft hearts.'

Joel, after slipping out an irate chuckle through his nose, muttered with impatience, "I am tryin' to keep us _afloat _while shit creek shoves us downstream."

Ellie cleared her throat and strummed at her guitar at long last, finally finding it within herself to ignore him.

What she could _not _find within herself were words to sing. So she struck the strings alone.

Frank, who had taken on a defensive pose in his own battered lawn chair, loosened back up as the commotion died down. He ruffled the fur on his dog's head – a German Shephard Pitbull mix. The mutt panted, settling itself back down into a napping position, and his owner followed suit. Tipping his trucker hat's brim over his baggy eyes, Frank sipped at his beer some more and leaned into his seat, letting Ellie's music seep into the pores of space between the campfire's crackling and bay water's sloshing.

A couple minutes passed. Ellie lost track of where the progression was going.  
But she had felt Joel's presence slip off somewhere in the distance. He needed his space from her, too, much as he wouldn't admit it. And that was all she'd really been looking for – a chance to play.

Something calming to fill in the empty spaces. Something to occupy her hands.

Eventually, the familiar rumbling of a rust-bucket truck stirred the duo from their zen-like moment of respite.

Ellie's guitar stopped. The truck's rickety engine tapered off. And soon enough, the presence of Chloe Price occupied what would've been a peaceful vacuum.

"Not too late for Koombaya, am I?" Chloe greeted them with her typical, trying-too-hard swagger.

"No, but you _are _fucking late, Price," Frank groaned, to which Chloe flashed a defensive shrug.

"Didn't realize we were running such a tight _ship _all of a sudden," Chloe muttered, trying to play off Frank's domineering gesture.

"It's looking like we're gonna _have _to," Ellie pointed out, "unless we wanna...sink down in...shit creek, or...-" She trailed off into a sigh.

"...What?" murmured Chloe, shooting Ellie an odd look with a whiplash shake of her head.

Ellie's hand balled itself into an uncertain fist against her knee as she set her guitar down in the dirt.

"Your turn at the plate, All-Star," Frank cited, pointing a loose finger at her while remaining slouched back in his seat.

"Yeaaaa," Chloe replied slowly with a cocked brow. "Don't know what you're _talking _about? But I _did _double-check my batting average recently – not so hot."

"Then limber up and swing smarter," Frank advised. "'cuz we're on our third fucking strike here, woman."

"_What _are you _on_ about?" Chloe huffed, crossing her arms and tapping her cowgirl boot in a half-assed patch of grass.

"End of the week," Frank blurted. "We got 'til the end of the week to sort this shit out, or we're not makin' this month's dues."

"The hell happened?" hissed Chloe, brows lowered irritably.

"She's back, Chloe," Ellie stated, quite simply. She burned her cold stare into her friend's clueless blue eyes until it sank in. "Yea, _her._"

"_Rachel_?" Chloe balked, jaw agape with alarm. "But-...No, she...-"

"Skipped town?" Frank grumbled bitterly. "You'd _think _after all the shit she put us through to _leave _this hellhole she'd _stay _left."

"What the _hell _is she doing back in Arcadia?" Chloe demanded in a whisper, her voice trembling a little. "After everything we...-"

"No fucking idea," Ellie said with a shrug, hunched over her guitar. "That's _your _dudes' business. Either way? Something's off about it."

"Got _that _damn right," Frank agreed.

As a discontent silence fell over the trio, Ellie gave her guitar a harsh, sudden strum, slapping the strings quiet a half-second later.

"Are you-...? You're _sure _she's back?" Chloe checked, her whole demeanor tilted at this news. She approached Frank, hands on her hips. "You _saw _her?"

Frank scoffed out a chuckle, slightly shaking his head as he sipped at his beer.

"_No, _I didn't fucking _see _her." He shook his can, observing the slight remnants of liquid sloshing inside. "Never wanna see her face _again_," he added under his breath before slurping down the last gulp of beer.

"Well-..." Chloe huffed through her nose, crossing her arms and shrugging. "Neither do _I. _So, how do you know she's really back?"

"Hedwyn gave me a head's up," Frank grumbled, dropping his empty can to the gravel and lazily stamping it flat with his boot.

"And you _believed _him?" Chloe balked. "A fucking _Nightwing._"

"He's never lied to us before," Ellie reminded, plucking at her strings without direction. "And in case you forgot, he's the reason we're even still in business, here."

"Because he plays both sides," huffed Chloe, rolling her eyes.

"Because he keeps the _peace_," Frank sharply corrected. "You _want _Jodi on your doorstep?"

Chloe grunted with disbelief, her face contorting with frustration.

"_No_," she replied irritably. "But I-"  
"Good," Frank cut her off. "Me, neither. Which means what he says might as well be fucking gospel, all right?"

"Why did he _tell _you this shit?" Chloe asked bluntly. Popping up one shoulder, she added, "Huh? _Why?_"

"Because he knows _just _as well as I do what a _problem _Amber can be, and he wants us to _do _somethin' about it before she spreads her goddamn roots again."

"'_Do _somethin'?'" parroted Chloe, cocking her head and widening her eyes. "Like...-?" She flashed up her palms, twitching warily. "'Cuz-...'Cuz I am _not_-"  
"Just _talk _to her, you _moron_," Frank barked with a tired sigh.

Ellie shrugged, giving Chloe a disbelieving look. Frank had never asked such a thing.  
That wasn't Frank's wheelhouse. Guy was too soft beneath the gruff exterior.

"Oh. _Pff. _Talk to her," Chloe spat, seething sarcasm as she whirled around. "Oh, is _that _all you want me to do?" Wiping her hand through her uneven hair, she shook her head with doubt. "The _second _that-..." She bit her tongue and huffed hot air through her nostrils. Turning back to face them, she cited, "As _soon _as I'm back on her radar again, she's gonna stir _everything _back up."

"You're _already _on her 'radar,'" said Frank. "That's why Hedwyn gave me the warning – she was asking about you. Asking if you still worked with us."

Chloe's face flickered with confusion, then anger.

"And what did you _tell _him?" Chloe snipped.

"The fuckin' _truth,_" Frank defensively retorted. "That you were back."

Dubious fists on her hips, Chloe checked, "And Rachel specifically _asked _about me?"

"'Parently," Frank huffed with an indignant shrug.

"The _fuck's _that matter to _her_?" growled Chloe under her breath.

"That's what _we _wanna know," Ellie explained. "Has she, like...gotten in touch with you at all, or...-?"

"_No_," Chloe blurted, incredulous at the notion. "_Fuck _no."

"And," Ellie pressed, pausing thoughtfully. "you have _no_ idea what she's doing back in town?"

Chloe shook her head vehemently.

"No clue," Chloe confirmed.

"Well, you're gonna _get _a clue," said Frank. "And while you're at it, you're gonna find out what the _hell _she's doing creepin' in on our clients."

"Why don't ask your fucking _Nightwing _pal about it?"

"He says Amber knows where she is and ain't supposed to be sellin'," Frank replied. "He's just as in the dark as we are."

"_Psh. _Right. Yea." Chloe bobbed on her toes impatiently. "Knowing her? She's probably just trying to fuck with us."

"Maybe," Frank sighed, scratching at his beard with one hand, petting his dog's head with the other.

Pompidou waddled off toward a nearby garbage can to take a leak.

"Is she _really _like that?" Ellie wondered. "She'd go through all this trouble just to...mess with you? Seems...petty."

"Exactly," grunted Chloe. "Seems like _Rachel..._"

"Oh, I'm sure she _wants _something, all right," Frank assured. "No way she'd be showing her face around here if she didn't."

"All right, soooo...-" Ellie glanced at both of their worn out expressions. "What does she _want, _then?"

Quiet, irritated gestures of dismissal.

"Whatever it is," said Frank, "she'll do whatever it takes to get it. Which is why _you-_" He jabbed a finger toward Chloe. "-are gonna find out what her damned _deal _is."

"And if she goes to Max?" Chloe posed. "_I_ don't need Max knowing about this shit. You _know _how Rachel is, she'll play Max against us. Rachel never fights her own battles, not when she can...-" Chloe's teeth clenched as she trailed off, fluttering her lips irritably.

Ellie could practically smell the despair in Chloe's bones. Whatever was there, it was enough to make Chloe scared, which was a rare sight, for sure.

"Eh," Ellie sighed fretfully. "M-Maybe Chloe's right, I mean, Max is an investigator, isn't she? What if she starts snooping into us?"

"Oh, _right,_" chuckled Frank. "and turn in her _wife? _Yea, _OK_."

"Dude," Chloe pleaded. "I _can't _have Max involved in this shit. Come _on._"

"Shoulda thought twice about getting back in the game, then, Price," Frank dismissed. "_You're _the one who married a fucking P.I."

"She wasn't a P.I. when we _got married._"

"She was when you stuck your foot back in the door," Frank retorted.

Chloe turned to Ellie, hand lifted expectantly. Ellie offered an empathetic look but gave her a shrug.

"Don't look at _me_," Ellie clammed up. "_I _didn't burn this 'Rachel Bridge.'"

"And besides," Frank defended, "El's got _enough _to deal with. _You're _the one who's been slacking, Price. Speaking of –" He wriggled an upturned palm at Chloe.

Chloe paused, giving him a glare, then fished a rubber-banded roll of cash from her jacket, shoving it into Frank's hand.

"It _better _all be here this time," Frank growled, fiddling with the wad in his hand.

"It is," Chloe blurted impatiently. "Business as usual."

"Uh-huh," Frank murmured, unrolling the wad and counting it out.

Ellie, off-put by the tension between the two of them, tried to find her chord progression again.

She barely knew Rachel Amber, but Ellie _did _know the chick had screwed Chloe and Frank over – in every sense of the word – even turning them on each other for a spell before robbing them blind and skipping the city. That had been before Ellie's time working with Frank, and Ellie had _no _fucking interest in even setting eyes on this shady woman. Amber sounded like a damned human chameleon, and Ellie had zero patience for that kind of shit.

"Well, well, well," Frank said with a smirk, slapping the stack of bills against his knee. "Even made up for last week's little hiccup, didja?"

Chloe nodded slightly, avoiding his gaze.

"That's what I like to see," said Frank, pointing the money toward Chloe with a nod. "There's hope for you yet, Chloe." He flipped a portion of the cash off the pile, pinched it between his fingers, and extended it to Chloe.

Chloe accepted it hesitantly, jamming her earnings into her jeans.

"Y-Yea, well, look, I've got that new job, like I told you, so-...I'm gonna have to dial this back a bit, and-"  
"We'll sort that out later," Frank cut her off. "Right now? You've gotta take care of this Amber problem."

After an extended glaring contest, Chloe shook her head in a twitchy, frustrated gesture, rolling her eyes some more.

"Fine."

"Now, then." Frank twisted the rest of the cash back into its rubber band and tucked it into his coat. "This week?" He shuffled his cap around, staring up at Chloe. "You're gonna have a nice chat with Rachel, 'n yer gonna make _sure _that business _stays _as usual."

"Roger-fucking-dodger," Chloe groaned, slapping on a sarcastic salute.

"Call us tomorrow night," Ellie advised, hands folded, hunched over in her seat. She waited for Chloe to meet her eyes. She gave Chloe a look that conveyed the severity of things. "All right?"

Chloe flashed an incredulous expression, but Ellie could feel Frank backing her up with an equally serious face. This needed to be nipped in the bud. Just because Chloe didn't comprehend the depth of _why _or _how _didn't make that any less true.

"Do I even _wanna _know what this is _really _about?" Chloe posed warily.

"Probably not," Ellie sighed. "So just do what Frank said, and we'll get through this shit."

Chloe sucked in a deep breath through her nose and nodded obediently.

"Guess I'm...on it, then," she mumbled in resignation, stomping off to her truck.

As the rickety rust bucket started up, Frank leaned over, digging up a pair of cans from his cooler. He tilted his head toward Ellie, gesturing one of the cans around her. She nodded, opening her palms to catch it when he threw it toward her.

Joel's footsteps emerged from behind Frank's RV as Ellie stared down at the chilled can of beer.

"Sure that's a good idea right now?" Joel's grumbly, scratchy voice complained over her shoulder.

She spitefully cracked the can open.

"Just because _you _can't doesn't mean _I _can't," she grumbled under her breath before taking a large gulp.

"He's really givin' you shit today, ain't he?" Frank noticed, shaking his head with a sigh as he opened his second can.

"Always is," Ellie said, avoiding facing Joel.

"Now, _that _ain't...-" Joel groaned, trailing off into a defeated sigh.

Ellie could remember a time when things between the two of them had been better. But they had always been symbiotic, hadn't they? Even before things had changed. And now that she was an adult, this whole father-daughter thing, over-complicated as it was, had become fucking _exhausting. _He wouldn't leave, wouldn't let go. And the kicker was that she wouldn't _let _him leave, even if he tried. Despite everything he'd done. Everything _she _had done.

Family was a bitch.

Speaking of which...-

Ellie couldn't get Olivia's sly face out of her head.

_'Look. I __**know**__ what you are looking for.'  
'You're looking for someone.'_

Liv had pulled Ellie out of a mess or two in their time working together over the past year or so. Did that warrant bumping things up to a higher level of trust? Did Ellie really have a _choice, _given Olivia's talents? And knowing what she knew, Ellie figured that Liv must've been in a tight spot herself, even if she was good at hiding it. There'd been a certain desperation in Liv's attitude during their encounter at the arcade that evening, but Ellie was just _as _desperate.

"Thinkin' we can trust her?" Joel asked quietly, arms crossed as he paced at Ellie's side.

"I...-?" Ellie furrowed her brows at him. He was gazing off in the direction Chloe had left in.

"That mess of a 'friend' o' yours," he cited, bobbing his chin up. "Sortin' things out with Amber."

"Chloe'll handle that crap," Ellie said, guzzling more of her beer. "Right, Frank?"

"She damn well _better_," Frank huffed. "I don't need another fuckin' 'Merrick' situation for you to deal with."

"_Fff_," Joel laughed through his nose, hands on his hips. He leaned over, sighing with amusement. "Nahhh, don't want _that, _do we?" he posed sarcastically, giving Ellie a glare.

Ellie shrunk into her lawn-chair and drank some more. She was desperate to change the subject before Joel brought up shit she did _not _want to dwell on.

"I don't get it, though," said Ellie. She raised her beer can, extending her index finger across the campfire. "How come _you're _not talking with her?"

"Like I said," Frank grunted defensively, "I never wanna even lay _eyes _on that woman ever again."

"What exactly _happened _with you guys? With her, Chloe, you?"

"Some bullshit," Frank huffed. "_That's _what. Years ago. Don't wanna get into it."

Ellie exchanged looks with Joel, who shrugged and shook his head at her with a scolding expression.

"Gotcha," Ellie replied hesitantly. "I just-...If there's something I should know about it...-"

"There _ain't_," Frank firmly growled. "So drop it, Ellie."

The pair let the tension smolder away with the campfire as they drank in silence after that.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Aloy fussed her hands together as she awaited the Doc to fill out her prescription. How was it that when she was out in the field, her hands were like stone, steady and still, but sit her down with nothing to do and that sturdiness crumbled into sand?

Aloy wasn't sure what it was, but something about being stuck in these sterile hospital rooms always weirded her out. Admittedly, paying the Doc a visit was also a bit distracting – the woman was angelically radiant, yet always carried this air about her like she was some burdened genius, which put Aloy off. Maybe it reminded her of her mother? Hm. Probably something there, but this wasn't the right kind of 'doc' to be asking such things.

Doctor Ziegler tore off the sheet and handed it to Aloy, citing, "You're pushing yourself too hard – these symptoms should be a warning sign. Post-trauma stressors might be triggering these episodes."

"Episodes?" Aloy balked, not liking where this was headed. She accepted the sheet hesitantly. "No, no, this was _singular._" She flashed up her index finger. "_One. _This happened _once._"

The Doctor's eyes smoldered with impatience as she jotted something down on her clipboard. Aloy realized she'd just made her case worse. _Grrrrreat._

"You experienced quite an ordeal on your previous assignment," Ziegler retorted stiffly.

"You mean the HADES Incident? That was _months _ago."

Ziegler nodded primly, expounding, "Side-effects from trauma can take many forms, and not always show themselves immediately after an event."

"But-…I've been _fine_ up until now. This was a one-time thing."

"With any luck," said Ziegler, making the final ink strokes to her sheet, "we will keep it that way, won't we?" She reached into her lab coat and produced a card, handed it to Aloy. "I'm going to recommend you see your department's Psychiatrist."

Aloy tried to keep her bitter sigh to herself, but it couldn't help drizzling out of her tightened nostrils.

She checked the card. She recognized the name. The shrink had a reputation amongst the ranks of the APD.

{ _Zenyatta _ }

Damnit. That was really not what Aloy wanted. The last thing she needed was more prying eyes on what she was up to, or how terribly she was coping with it. And besides, what good would _that _kind of 'therapy' even do for her? It was still experimental. Then again, Arcadia seemed to have made quite some changes over recent years into the experimental side of things.

"_Don't _give me that scowl," Ziegler snipped at Aloy's wary expression. "He's proven to be quite a valued member of his field."

Aloy sighed and shrugged uncertainly. She posed, "I'm guessing I don't have a choice in this, do I?"

"Not if you want to stay on duty," the Doc said with a saccharine smile, her smile glowing with radiant sarcasm.

"Great," Aloy replied flatly, pushing herself up from the sterile bed. "So, I might as well stop wasting your time, then." She made way for the door.

Ziegler grumbled to herself, "Sometimes I'm not sure why I even bother."

"Thanks, Doc," Aloy sheepishly offered with a meek wave. She spun around the doorway, making her escape.

On her way out, Aloy bumped shoulders with a lanky, gaunt-faced person adorned in a flowing black jacket. Eyes like cinders, hair bright orange like Aloy's own, short-cut and slicked back with product. Their chin was so sharp it could probably stab someone. But what startled Aloy most was the opposing color of their eyes – one red, one blue. They locked eyes for a moment that made Aloy feel...violated, almost.

"_Gah, _sorry, M-...Ma'am?" Aloy fumbled out, so distracted by the encounter – and hoping she'd gendered this person appropriately on her gut reaction. "Wasn't looking where I...-"

"A simple mistake," the woman said down to Aloy – she was quite tall. "Water under the bridge, Ms. Sob...-" She paused, narrowing her eyes. "Ah, right. Officer Nora, was it?"

Aloy straightened her uniform's collar and nodded. Just standing in front of this strange woman was unnerving, giving her the weirdest of chills.

The strange, gangly woman said nothing, only..._stared, _hands folded primly behind her back.

"I, uh-...Have a good day," Aloy blurted out, eager to dodge the stranger's gaze.

"Indeed," she replied, still eyeing Aloy all the way down the hall. "And you."

As Aloy trudged down the stairwell, she shuddered. Her temples were aching a little. Probably the stress from the whole afternoon, capped off with a dissatisfying trip to the Doc, and then a downright _creepy _encounter with that woman.

"Wouldn't want to run into _her _in a dark alley," Aloy grumbled to herself.

"How's that?" came a voice approaching up the stairs.

"Ah, just...talking to myself," Aloy explained doggedly to the passerby below.

"_Ha. _You still do that, eh, Nora?" That voice – Aloy knew it well.

"Inspector," Aloy greeted as their eyes met, shrugging off the playful jab at her habit.

"Lieutenant now," the woman corrected, their paths intersecting at a half-story landing.

They shook hands, their grips equally solid and tight.

"Greetings."

Fareeha was just as elegantly featured as Aloy remembered, her black hair just as sleek, her body language just as rigid, her default expression just as stern. Aloy had heard she was _shredded. _Heh. But, seriously. The woman really _did _have an eight pack. Or she had, at least, back in the day. One of Aloy's fellow alumni from the academy, Fareeha had quickly been rocketing her way through the APD's ranks. They'd been casual friends back in their training days, but with how much more prestigious and serious Fareeha was, Aloy couldn't help but feel like an incompetent mess on the rare occasions they interacted anymore. The fact that Fareeha's mother – Captain Ana Amari – was now Aloy's boss? Well, that just...kind of made things an extra layer more awkward.

"L-_Lieutenant,_" Aloy babbled with surprise. "Wow, _um, _con-...Congratulations. That was..._fast_."  
_Din-__**damnit, **__how is everyone else getting so much further ahead than me?_

"Being a Captain's daughter probably had something to do with it," Fareeha humbly dismissed with a soft sigh through her nostrils.

"Being good at what you _do _probably had _more _to do with it," Aloy encouraged. "I thought your mother didn't even _want _you to join the force."

Fareeha tilted her head slightly in acknowledgment. The woman was a _damn _fine officer, no question. She deserved the to be climbing the ranks quickly. _Still, _though. Lieutenant, _already? _Aloy couldn't help but wonder how the conflicting facts affected the woman's reputation. Had Captain Amari pushed her to climb the ladder, or was Fareeha actually doing it _against _her mother's wishes? Hard to say, and Aloy wasn't going to prod.

"Here to see the Missus?" Aloy theorized, having just gotten her checkup from said spouse – Angela Ziegler.

Fareeha nodded primly.

A weird pause of uncertainty, the two of them side by side in the middle of the stairwell. A door opened above.

"It's been some time, Nora," Fareeha noted. "We haven't caught up since...-"  
"The Captain's got me on a tight leash these days," Aloy blew off the attempt. Fareeha meant well, but Aloy knew it wasn't a good idea. Among other reasons, she'd just feel super self-conscious were they to meet in any kind of social capacity at that point in time. "Working us into the ground."

"So I've heard," mumbled Fareeha. "Still, um-...You're still with Oxton, aren't you?"

Aloy nodded, and Fareeha nodded back, but...there was an odd tension to it.

Aloy folded her arms around her waist and nodded, trying to figure out what was eating her old friend. Well. Maybe 'friend' was too generous a word anymore. They'd really drifted apart after the academy. Maybe that was why Aloy was so confused as to why the _Lieutenant _was stalling to leave. Surely she had more important things to be doing than catching up with some fallen-from-grace beat cop.

After their steps echoed through the well, whoever had been moving about above reached them – a nurse, looked like. They allowed the person to pass by, heading downstairs.

"Well, uh, nice...seeing you, Far-"

Aloy took a step to leave, but Fareeha grabbed her bicep, halting her gently.

"While I have you for a moment...-" Fareeha spat, her expression unnaturally concerned.

"Yea?" Aloy grunted, her guts like jelly.

"I hear my mother really reamed out you and Oxton recently," Fareeha brought up. "It seems to have rolled off your partner's back, but I've heard you haven't taken it so well."

Great. Exactly the salt Aloy needed in this wound.

"Ah, y-yea, I mean, she's-..." Aloy shrugged, rubbing her nose shiftily. "I'm fine. I've-...Lena and I, we've been really stumbling around recently, so it's...deserved. You know how she is. More than _anyone_, I'm sure."

Fareeha nodded rigidly, lips tight.

"On the bright side," Fareeha offered, "if my mother is being that harsh on you, it means she knows what you are capable of. That case she has you on? It's the sort she normally puts a qualified Detective on."

Aloy lifted her brows dubiously, tucking a thumb in her pocket and letting her fingers drum against her thigh. Standing in a stairwell and having a conversation like this was uncomfortable, but then again, who _knew _when she'd cross paths with Fareeha? And the woman wasn't really one to keep in touch with her, so...-

"Ah, nah, we're just-...With the bombings lately, I'm sure she's just...a bit overrun, and so...-"

"I've heard great things about what you accomplished in Meridian. I'm sure the Captain is giving you a chance to prove yourself."

"Feels like I might be one of those one-and-done kinda cops, at this rate," Aloy sighed.

"Your demotion?" Fareeha hazarded a guess. "It happens to the best of officers."

"Not to _you_," Aloy mumbled, trying to keep her envy masked by a wary chuckle.

Fareeha sighed with an empathetic smile, crossing her arms thoughtfully.

"Things for me are...more complicated than you might believe," Fareeha admitted. "The higher one stands, the further they might fall."

Aloy gave pause at this remark, unsure as to what to say.

Fareeha continued, "An officer's rank is not some static measure of their worth. Look at my mother, for instance. I would argue she's just as critical to this department's livelihood as Chief Morrison. She could _easily _have taken a higher position with how far she has come."

"So...why _hasn't _she?" Aloy asked, having wondered the same question on more than occasion.

"She prefers to keep her boots closer to the ground, I suppose," Fareeha answered, lifting one shoulder contemplatively. "Justice isn't only served from above, after all. In either case, if _every _talented officer was sitting behind a desk, then what state would our streets be left in?"

Huh. Aloy had never thought of it quite that way before. It didn't lessen her frustration much, but it at least gave her something to chew on.

"I guess," Aloy acknowledged. "I'm not exactly one for...red tape, regulations, and...-" She shook her head, trailing off. "So, I'm not even sure how esteemed I could _ever_ be. More of a...peoples' person? I prefer working the streets."

"I recall," said Fareeha.

"And, well...I tend to think with my _gut, _rather than-..." Aloy tossed her hair back behind her shoulders and shook her head dismissively. "I mean, that's how I ended up in this with Lena, anyway, so...-"

"I'm lucky," Fareeha conceded. "Angela is in a different sector. I've never been in a position where I've had to make the sort of choice you did. But if you truly love her – if you see a future with her? – then I promise you, the two of you will figure something out."

Yeesh, if Aloy _truly _loved her? Easy for the married woman to say. Aloy wasn't sure, honestly. Given her history with such matters...it was hard for her to see a future with _anyone. _And yet, here she was, dating her old partner, _while_ working alongside them, as she...often seemed to. Three for three partners, now. What if it just ended up the way it had the _last _two times?

Another stranger shuffled up the stairwell. The pair leaned over to allow this other passerby a through-way, and Aloy continued to feel wary at the way Fareeha was almost blocking her way down.

Aloy muttered, "I...wish I had the same confidence _you_ do, Amari."

"You _used _to," Fareeha sighed, a sliver of rare sorrow leaking through her eyes. "What transpired in Meridian – I know how those kinds of situations can change a person, trained or otherwise."

Fareeha pressed a heavy, hardened hand against Aloy's shoulder as a door above them swung open. Aloy absorbed the gesture in the pause while the door above slowly closed itself. She found herself missing her old bunkmate's counsel. It seemed Lt. Amari missed it, too, as she was too intent on giving it right then.

"Aloy," Fareeha said quietly, squeezing her grip before releasing. "Your circumstances are irregular, yes. But you're still just as determined as you ever have been. I can see it in your eyes – you still have that fire this department needs. Hold onto that. Things are going to get bleaker before they get better. _But, _as long as you keep your priorities in line?" She tapped at her badge, then rotated her hand, flashing her wedding band. "Clear skies, full hearts, can't lose."

"Can't lose," Aloy breathed out with a nostalgic warmth.

"Just remember," Fareeha said, "as long as you're still the kind of woman I _know _you are, when it comes time for _me _to put together my own team?" She pointed two fingers at her eyes, then re-routed them at Aloy. "I've got you on my radar."

Aloy smiled sheepishly at this, but nodded, giving Fareeha one of their old arm-grapples, which was reciprocated. Chins up, eyes narrow, smiles wide, they nodded to each other.

"I'll, uh, hold you _to_ that," Aloy replied with some playful gratitude.

"Keep doing what y_-...Ah._" Fareeha's phone chimed, interrupting her.

She checked it, her expression twitching in this adorable way that it did when Angela was involved.

"Sorry, but _I_ need to jet," she said with a casual salute. Heading upward and onward – as she always did – Lieutenant Amari called back, "Chin up! It was good seeing you, Nora."

"You, too." After the Lieutenant had disappeared up into the hall, Aloy mumbled the woman's nickname aloud: "Pharah."

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

The scent of Kọfị Aromo brand coffee always filled Lena with a sense of coziness. The smell had become distinct to Aloy's keen senses, much to Lena's delight. Aloy could always pick up the trace of a street vendor peddling its caffeine-infused drinks with ease. Lena loved the stuff, so, unsurprisingly, they'd found themselves grabbing a couple cups to go on their way through the Historic District. Place was a touch in ruins at that point, if Lena was being blunt about it. The oldest part of town, and it showed.

With hot drinks in hand, the duo inconspicuously made their way to the designated address Aloy had received from her 'source' – the location those questionable characters they'd been tracking had left from. Evidently, it was the home of Mayor Dreemur's ex-wife. Lena wasn't sure what there was to really find there, or even if the lady would talk. But, well, she knew Aloy was stubborn to a fault with following every lead, so, there they were.

No more than a block away from their Kọfị Aromo pit stop, Lena found herself admiring the way the bright sunlight of the winter afternoon bounced off of Aloy's fiery mane. Her heart was pin-pricked – just a bit, just for a moment – as the ginger tone of her partner's hair, the speckled skin, the spicy smirk, it all stirred up old memories. But that was the past. Lena was aiming to make new memories, after all.

She wriggled her arm around Aloy's – nice and sturdy arm, good arm, mm, yes.

"Uh," Aloy blurted out, chuckling softly but with some confusion. "Heyyy, what...-?"

Lena squeezed at the coat wrapping Aloy's arm and grinned, sipping at her coffee with her spare hand.

As they continued to walk, their steps out of sync, Aloy pointed out, "You _do _remember we're on the _job _right now, right?"

Lena breathed out a satisfied sigh after gulping some of her hot drink.

"We're supposed to be _blending in, _yea?" Lena retorted with a playful smirk.

Aloy's eyes rolled up and away, she grunted an amused laugh, and Lena savored the bit of awkwardness that spilled from her blazing warrior's freckled face.

"I guess," Aloy mumbled out in concession. She wriggled her arm around, loosening Lena's grip. Another pin-prick of pain struck, but was immediately replaced with a giddy flush of warmth as Aloy realigned their hands to be clutched together.

Maybe to their peers, it seemed odd or even ridiculous that they'd have hooked up in the first place. And to be fair, this extra layer of things was only a couple months old. They'd been partners back in their early days on the force in the professional sense, though Lena would be lying if she denied having carried a flame for Aloy. After Aloy's transfer to Meridian, Lena had figured that would be that, never hear from her again. Even hearing about Aloy's deeds in Meridian had itself been a bit painful – a reminder of how quickly her old partner had gotten her life together, and thus how buggered Lena's life was, by comparison. But then, when you turned back the clock, reset your life, so to speak – yet time continued to march on for everyone else – you kind of _lost _time, in a way, huh? Everyone else ended up ahead of you.

"You hungry?" Aloy nudged, pulling Lena out of her own worries.

"Huh?" Lena could smell tomato ketchup and yellow mustard. Hot dogs? _Oooh, _mm~! Her stomach rumbled with glee at the prospect of hot, street-vendor food.

Despite Aloy prompting the idea, Lena swiveled their aim round toward the little hot dog stand on the corner. Fashioned from wood, it almost looked like a...dog house? Was that supposed to be a joke, maybe?

The stand's worker was a rotund fellow in a puffy, light blue jacket, his face shrouded by a fur-laced hood and a red scarf. Some folks couldn't handle the cold so well, eh? It _was _pretty chilly out.

"heya," greeted a slow, relaxed voice from beneath the scarf. "wanna buy a hot dog?"

"Two, please," Aloy said, breaking her handhold with Lena to retrieve her wallet.

Lena would've offered to buy her own, but she knew full well Aloy wouldn't have it. Not that Lena minded. It felt nice to be catered to, just so long as she got the opportunity to cater in kind.

"thanks." The pudgy, short man swapped Aloy's cash for two hot dogs. Not...in buns or anything. Literally just two hot dogs in paper. Were they even cooked fully...? Eh, seemed to be steaming hot, anyways.

"here's your 'dogs," said the vendor.

Aloy seemed as puzzled as Lena was.

"yeah," the man chuckled softly. "'dogs. apostrophe-dogs. it's short for hot-dogs."

Either the guy didn't get what they were hung up on, or he was a cheeky rascal.  
As Lena observed the twinkle in his eye, she decided it was the 'cheeky rascal' bit.

The stand worker tilted his head toward the wood counter between them. There was a bag of hot dog buns and bottles of condiments.

"Uh...-" Aloy looked a bit irritated, but Lena was quite chuffed about this odd encounter.

Setting her coffee on the counter, Lena took both hot dogs and went about preparing them.

"you kids look a little lost," said the man, hands tucked in his pockets. "need directions?"

Lena snorted a giggle. She was nearly 30, and Aloy was already there. Aloy was definitely miffed at the remark.

"Actually," said Aloy, her tone a little rough, "we know where we're going. But, uh, thanks."

"welp. have fun." The man seemed too lazy to even wave them farewell.

Lena was already chowing down on her hot dog by the time she gave Aloy hers. Aloy seemed in a hurry to leave, and so the two whisked off, lunch in hand.

Keeping a close eye on the two women as they left, the hot-dog vendor couldn't help but notice what direction they were headed. He leaned against the wooden counter on his elbows, set his chubby cheeks against his latex-gloved wrists, and observed the abandoned coffee cup beside him.

Hm. Was it half empty? Or half full?

Hell if he knew.

"SLACKING OFF BY DOING WORK. . .TRULY, MY BROTHER IS A MASTER."

"heh."

The stand worker's taller, broader sibling loomed before the counter, holding hands with the little wonder kid he'd been tasked with babysitting. The kid waved, and the hot-dog salesman waved back.

"BROTHER."

"bro."

"SANS."

"papyrus?"

"WEREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE RUNNING AN ERRAND?"

Papyrus was the sort who you could hear coming a mile away, yet with the kid in tow, he'd taken up an interestingly more calm approach to things.

Sans, the portly, short one behind the counter, peeled off his latex gloves and dunked them into the wastebin inside the stand. He unclipped the coffee lid from the cup the spritely lady had left behind. He grabbed a plastic bag from his supplies behind the counter and dropped the lid in, sealing it before tucking it into his jacket pocket.

"yup," he finally replied.

Papyrus glowered at Sans with wide eyes and a scowl.

". . .AND?"

The child holding Pap's hand gawked between the brothers with a wary look.

"and."

Sans unwrapped his scarf, setting it on the counter, gave the child a wink with a toothy grin, and received an amused smirk in return.

"i think it's time for lunch. . ." Sans mumbled, setting supplies away as he closed up shop.

Papyrus swiped the scarf up and finagled his lanky limbs around, slithering it across his own shoulders.

"SHOULDN'T WE BE BRINGING THE LITTLE ONE BACK HOME?"

The child in the puffy, striped jacket sniffed, rubbing their runny nose, awaiting their fate.

"eh." Sans shrugged his shoulders as he locked up the stand. "ain'tcha hungry, kid?"

The child nodded with another sniff.

"see?" Sans retorted at his brother, whose face clenched with impatience.

"WE HAVE PRACTICE IN AN HOUR," Papyrus pointed out. "WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR SHENANIGANS."

Sans shrugged again, hands wedged in his pockets.

"i'll take a rain check on practice today."

"IT'S NOT EVEN RAINING!"

Sans smiled in spite of his brother's fussing, gazing down at the child in the striped jacket.

Exchanging a thoughtful glance with the confused kid, Sans replied, "it's raining _somewhere._"

The child's head lulled to one side as they tapped at their chin, then nodded in agreement.

"I'M STILL GOING! LAST TIME WE SKIPPED OUT, UNDYNE. . .-" Paps shuddered, glancing off to the side.

"let me look after frisk, then."

"EHH?" Papyrus seemed a little offended at the notion.

"well?" Sans tilted his head up at Frisk, the child in question. "whaddya say, kid? wanna grab a bite?"

Frisk broke hand contact with Paps, wiped their neatly trimmed bangs from their eyes and nodded, their face warming up at Papyrus with approval.

With a wary sigh, Papyrus posed, "WON'T TORIEL WONDER WHERE THEY ARE?"

Frisk was tapping away at their phone by the time Paps had finished asking.

Sans simply shrugged at the question, yanking down the shutters on his hot dog stand. Lazy as he was, maintaining access to an in-tact hot-dog stand saved him work in the long run.

Frisk tugged at Papyrus's baggy pant-leg. After letting out an irate "_NNGH?_" Paps glanced down at the cell phone screen.

"FINE-FINE-FINE!" Papyrus growled, stamping his foot and slapping his big hands on his big hips. "BUT IF YOU NEED ME, CALL MY HOTLINE."

"your phone. you mean."

"IT'S LESS INTERESTING WHEN YOU SAY IT LIKE THAT."

Sans shrugged, glancing at the kid, who shrugged in kind.

Sans waddled over to the pair, retrieving the bag from his pocket – the one containing the coffee cup lid.

"say. you said you had an hour, right?"

Papyrus' expression hardened at Sans' question.

Sans tossed the bag at his bro, who fumbled his big, lanky arms to catch it.

"mind droppin' that off at the office for me?"

"YOU WORK THERE."

Sans nodded plainly.

"WHY NOT BRING IT YOURSELF?"

Sans shrugged plainly.

"sort of a. . .A-S-A-P. . .kinda thing."

Papyrus' glare remained steady. Sans' slouching remained equally so.

Sans glanced at the child.

"besides. i already promised the kid a good time."

"CONVENIENT," Paps huffed, jamming the baggie into his coat.

Without a word, Papyrus also swiped his red scarf back from his brother, who endured the gesture without reaction. He flicked the scarf around his broad shoulders and sighed rather audibly.

"say hi to undyne for me," Sans bid his brother.

Papyrus flapped his mittened hand dismissively and nodded.

"REMEMBER! TORIEL WANTS THEM BACK BY 2 O'CLOCK."

"heh. sure thing, bro."

Papyrus glanced down to Frisk, who was smiling pleasantly at their sibling banter. Some kids were easier to please than others.

"KEEP MY BROTHER IN LINE, FRISK."

Frisk smiled toothily and nodded.

"ALSO." Paps flicked his stare at his sibling. "ARE YOU TWO GOING TO GRILLBY'S?"

Sans shrugged.

"WELL." Paps whipped out a crinkled up bill of cash and shoved it at his brother. "WHY NOT RETURN THE FAVOR? CAN YOU PICK ME UP A NEWSPAPER ON THE WAY BACK?"

Sans shrugged.

"huh. didn't think you read the news. . ."

Papyrus' stern glare was steady at his brother.

Sans posed, "ah. you just want a new crossword puzzle. huh?"

Papyrus' stern glare slid sideways.

". . .YES."

Papyrus swiveled to the child.

"WILL YOU MAKE SURE TO PICK ONE UP?" He leaned over, holding up a hand between the child and his brother. ". . .I FEEL LIKE MY BROTHER WILL PRETEND TO FORGET."

The child nodded and stuck up its tiny little hand into a thumbs-up. Heh. Good kid.  
Made Sans wonder, then...-

Handing the balled up money to Frisk, Papyrus spouted out his thanks, shot Sans a disappointed glare, and shoved off for practice.

Watching him lumber away, Sans waddled over to Frisk.

"so. just me and you. huh, kid?"

Frisk nodded, stuffing their own hands in their pockets to mirror Sans' posture.

"great," said Sans. "thanks for treating me to lunch."

Frisk grinned at this, shaking their head a little.

Sans reached out his chubby hand and roughly ruffled at the kid's head, messing up their hair. Giving Frisk a rough tap on the back, Sans directed them off the sidewalk.

"follow me, kiddo." He grinned over his shoulder to the child. With a twinkle in his eye, he said, "i'll show ya a shortcut." 

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

( lunch with sans. )-  
( ok? )-

Toriel sighed at the text message she'd just received. She'd been a bit worried, but if her child was in his hands, she was certain they'd be fine. She typed a reply.

-( That's fine. Be back before 2pm, my child. )

She received a simple reply.

()- A smiley-face.

Something about Frisk's wordless, smiley-face response confused Toriel and left an unsettling feeling in her gut – the same feeling she couldn't shake off, which had put her in her current position.

She tried to occupy her weary mind with some tea and some classic orchestral Toadofsky, but before long she was slipping into memories best left where they lay – in the past. Her worries began to spiral out of control, and no amount of tea and baking could undo what a mess was sprawled before her.

Before she'd even set the kettle to boil, her apartment door rattled with three knocks, quick and precise.

Had Frisk changed their mind about going out?

Two more knocks hit the door – sturdier and slower.

Toriel scrambled to tidy herself up before approaching the door. She was a tall woman with soft features accented by wrinkles – her frizzy hair was already going gray, so she'd bleached it white for a change of pace, which her students seemed to like well enough. Dressed in a paisley-patterned skirt with a green and white sweater vest to keep warm, snow-flake imbued stockings, and fuzzy white slippers, Toriel was dressed for a rare day off of work.

_\- knock knock!_ -

"Coming!"

Without thinking – she was much too distraught to think – she opened the door right up.

Before her stood a pair of women, bright-eyed and warm-faced. A split-second's emotion had her envying that youth, and wondering how she might've used hers more efficiently.

"Y-yes? Hello? Good afternoon," she managed to sputter out with a glaze of confused courtesy.

The brunette with the glasses smiled toothily – curious. The red-head, more wary and serious, pulled out her wallet and presented a badge: the triangular emblem of the APD.

So, Sans had been right. The police _were _sniffing around...

"Afternoon," greeted the sterner of the pair. "Officer Nora." She nodded her left to her right, introducing "Officer Oxton." The peppier one beamed and waved a brief, two-fingered salute of sorts.

"Toriel," greeted the elderly woman, planting a hand against her chest with a courteous nod.

For being cops, the pair weren't in uniform. Casual winter attire – and the more courteous-looking one was wearing a curious medallion around her neck, the sight of which filled Toriel with an unsettling familiar tingling sensation.

"If you don't mind, Ma'am," Oxton requested, "we'd like to come in, ask you a few questions?"  
Hm, she had an accent unbecoming of the region.

"What's this about?" Toriel wondered, delaying the inevitable.

Mouth slightly agape, Oxton's eyes stayed locked on Toriels for an awkward moment while her head rotated toward her partner, who replied in her stead.

"There was a child who was...visiting you?" Nora took a guess. "They left your house with a pair of men yesterday afternoon, around four p.m.?"

Toriel's heart skipped a beat. She was being watched, now? She should've known as much, but still.

"They a student of yours, maybe?" Oxton prodded.

"A-...A student?" Toriel found herself whip-lashed with fear. Things had been happening so quickly, she didn't really know how to react.

"You teach at Ebott Elementary, right?" Nora checked.

"Ah, yes." Toriel nodded, fussing with her glasses. "I do, yes."

_It's fine, this is fine.  
Just say what you were told to._

"Is it normal for your students to visit you after school?" Nora inquired.

"A-Ah, well, that child...is not my student, per se, they...also reside here. With me."

The two officers looked a little surprised, swapping glances. That made Toriel nervous.

"Might weeee...-" Oxton's eyes shifted awkwardly. "-...come _in, _then? Have a chat? Private-like?"

"_Oh._" Toriel realized how defensive her posturing – blocking the door and all – must have looked. "Yes, of course." She pulled the door wide open, allowing the officers entry.

Her whole body felt tight and stiff as she watched the two come in.

Closing the door, Toriel gestured toward the coat rack on the wall.

"We're fine," Nora assured. "Thanks."

Toriel nodded, extending an arm to welcome them to the living room and rest on the sofa.

"I was...just taking a tea break in-between house chores," Toriel explained, hovering before them. "Would you like some?"

"Oh, _yes, _please," Oxton accepted with an almost child-like grin.  
Odd. This woman seemed a bit young to be a cop. In demeanor, at least.

"Lena, we _just _had coffee," Nora mumbled disapprovingly.

"Yea, n' I _forgot _mine," Oxton pleaded. "Need that caffeine, you know?"

"Well, that's-..." Nora sighed, her eyes bouncing between her partner and Toriel. She nodded impatiently, "All right, it's just-...We won't be here long, Ma'am."

"There's _always _time for tea," said Oxton, nudging her partner with an elbow.  
She seemed awfully casual for a cop. It was throwing Toriel off a bit. Not in a bad way, but...-

"I'll go fetch some for you," Toriel confirmed. "Sugar? Milk?"

"Both, please," Oxton chirped with a smile unbecoming of what Toriel expected of an APD representative.

The distraction would give Toriel time to collect her thoughts, at least.

Whisking herself away to her kitchen, Toriel switched on the kettle and tried to smooth herself over. She quietly pried photos of her loved ones from the fridge, shoving them cautiously beneath odds and ends in an inconspicuous drawer. She busied herself with tidying the kitchen as she waited for the water to boil. As she placed the utensils away, she noticed something.

One of her kitchen knives seemed to be missing.

Hm. Likely misplaced from...when Frisk had been helping her prepare dinner the night before? The child had probably just put it in the wrong place when trying to help clean up. They were too short to reach the magnetic knife rack on the wall, after all, and the argument they'd gotten into had likely-

"Toriel, right?"  
_Ah-!_

Toriel gasped in a startled breath, whipping her head round to see the curious face of the older officer.

"Yes...-?" Toriel eked out, sighing as she caught her breath.

"S-Sorry, Ma'am," Nora said, "Didn't mean to sneak up on you, I just-..." She was holding a small notepad, and tapped her eraser on it twice, her lips pursed. "You said this child 'resided here' with you?"

"That's right," Toriel replied. She added matter-of-factly, "I adopted them at the start of the semester."

"I see." Nora nodded, scribbling at her pad. "So. This would be the..._second _time you've adopted."

Toriel's eyes furrowed slightly at this.

"If you already _know _about my past, why would you be asking?" she posed, coming off a little more prickly than she knew she should. She couldn't help it.

Officer Nora absorbed Toriel's offended glare unflinchingly.

"It's...expected that we'd do some research before paying you a visit," Nora defended herself – delicately. "Just dotting 'i's' and crossing 't's' here, Ma'am." Toriel could tell the woman was quite impatient, especially after bursting into her kitchen like this. It was worrisome. How much did this officer know?

"Yes," Toriel acknowledged, trying to cool down. "Well. The past is not exactly something I'm comfortable discussing with a stranger."

"Understandable," Nora conceded. "I'm sure being the Mayor's wife probably made things more difficult than they already were for you."

Toriel nodded at this, still unsure as to how to feel about this woman's suspicious, inquiring eyes.

"I can assure you," Toriel stated, as the kettle began to drizzle out steam, "I'm simply trying to move on with my life."

"And being a single mother in this city must be tough," said Nora, watching as Toriel turned off the stove. "No wonder you'd have a sitter to help out."

"A sitter?" murmured Toriel, placing a tea bag into a coffee mug.

"The men who were here yesterday," Nora reminded. "Who picked up your child? I mean. I can only _assume_...-"

"Ah. Yes. They're...friends of mine," Toriel explained, pouring water from the kettle into the mug. "My child had a Doctor's appointment, and I wasn't able to bring them. How...do you _know _they were here, exactly?" she asked testily.

Nora chewed her lip a bit before saying, "I don't mean to alarm you, Ma'am, but your friends might be involved in something serious, and your child might be connected."

"'Involved?'" Toriel prodded, playing innocent. "My child has done _nothing _wrong."

"I didn't say they have. I can't say much else about the case," Nora admitted. "but if you could provide their names...it could help out a great deal."

"Those two are harmless," Toriel dismissed. "Just because that bumbling excuse for a 'mayor' can't keep Arcadia clean, it does _not _mean I'm still his keeper. And my child is _certainly _not 'connected' to any kind of criminal activity."

"That...very well might be," Nora conceded, her thin patience waning. "But we have to look into every lead."

"Whatever might have transpired, my child and I have had no part in it," Toriel stated. "I'd much rather not discuss this any further. You may take it up with the Mayor if you so wish."

She gave Nora another stern stare, dipping the teabag around in the mug.

"All right," Nora accepted, though her expression remained stubborn. "Can you at least confirm your child's _name_ for me?"

Knowing how bad things already looked, Toriel knew she had to put the child's innocence first and foremost.

"Frisk," she replied.

Nora raised her brow.

"That's what they go by," Toriel elaborated.

"A nickname, then?" Nora checked, her lips pursed with doubt.

"Perhaps," Toriel blew off the question. "By now, it's their legal name. Paperwork needs to be filed with _something, _after all. Frisk's background is...from what little I know, not at all traditional."

"What do you mean?"

"You'd...have to ask the adoption agency. I'm not one to pry into people's pasts, as you can likely imagine." Toriel did _not _feel good lying to a police officer about this. But it was the best she could do to keep Frisk out of harm's way, so far as she knew.

The paperwork would check out, she'd been assured.  
As long as she stuck to her story, things would be fine.

Nora nodded slowly, and once again, there was a certain sword-dance going on between their gazes.

"How old is 'Frisk?'" asked Nora.

Toriel was left a bit speechless at this. Why on earth was this officer so intent on pursuing this?  
Frisk had done nothing wrong. She'd been quiet diligent in monitoring the child's schedule, there wasn't any room for something to have happened without her knowing about it.

Surely, Sans would have told her if something had transpired, wouldn't he?

"Twelve," Toriel replied.

That was the answer she'd been told to give.  
She knew it was not accurate in the technical sense.

"Is this them?" called out the other officer from the parlor.

Nora and Toriel both diverted their attention to the doorway, where Officer Oxton approached, holding a picture frame.

"Cute little buggers, eh?" posed Oxton, flipping the frame around.

It was an old photo of Toriel's children. The ones she'd lost back then.  
They had been so young and happy.  
For a time.

Her sweet boy, the one she'd carried and brought into the world herself, smiling with delight, clutching a bouquet of golden flowers. And his best friend – practically his sibling – hiding their bashful face into a similar bouquet.

One child, born of her own blood.  
The other, taken in by choice.  
Both lost, days apart.

Toriel swiped the photo from Oxton's slippery grasp.

"That's an old photo," Toriel cited, trying her best to keep it together. She could feel the tears creeping up on her eyelids. "These two...aren't with us anymore."

She made for the parlor, eager to set the photo back on the mantle where it belonged.

"Ah..." Oxton mumbled warily. "Sorry, Ma'am, thought the pic was more recent, I, um...-"

"After losing both of them," Nora posed, her blunt questioning becoming more painful by the minute, "what made you choose to adopt again? I mean, why put yourself through all that?"

"As I said," Toriel breathed out, wiping at her damp eyes, "I'm trying to move on with my life."

"She's a mum," Oxton observed plainly. "A mum needs someone to...look out for, right?"

"Something like that," Toriel sighed with a hesitant smile. "Frisk is a very special child. Very...unique. We developed a...connection. When I learned of their situation – that they had no family, I mean – I took it upon myself to adopt them."

"Awh, rather sweet," Oxton murmured with an approving nod. "Must be proper tricky after all _you've _been through, eh?"

Toriel nodded tiredly.

"I'm..._really _sorry to keep throwing questions at you," said Nora, "but _when _did you adopt this child, again?" Cutting right to the chase, this one.

"At the start of the school year," Toriel curtly replied. "Everything was finalized by the end of September."

"Got it." And there she was, scribbling in that notepad of hers. "Thanks."

It made Toriel rather uneasy to know her child was being looked into like this. Couldn't the world just _leave her alone _by now? Was she simply not allowed to have the _one _thing she wanted – a child to take care of?

"Come to think," piped Officer Oxton casually surveying the décor of the parlor, "where are they now? No school today, after all."

"They're out to lunch with a friend," Toriel replied, at least grateful she could say something wholly honest.

"Any idea when they'll be back?" Nora inquired. "Would we be able to talk with them?"

Toriel chuckled weakly.

"I'm afraid...that won't be possible."

The two cops were perplexed.

"Frisk cannot speak," Toriel explained. "Unless you know sign language?"

The officers exchanged awkward, silent glances.

Toriel added, "And I'm certain they'd be a bit afraid to engage with strangers, given all they've been through recently."

"I see," mumbled Nora complacently.

But her eyes and Toriel's did their little dance of clashing blades again.

"And what have they 'been through,' exactly?" Nora pondered.

"I'd much rather not talk about that, it's...not relevant to whatever it is you're looking into."

"I'd say that's for us to decide, actually," Nora protested with a slight laugh of disbelief.

"Frisk is a delicate soul who has more than enough to deal with as it is," Toriel sighed. Her energy to keep this up was waning. "I have a house to clean before they return. If you truly need more information, please speak with the adoption agency."

"Mm." Nora pursed her lips, staring Toriel down as she closed her notebook again.

"I promise you, my child has done nothing wrong. And if it is my friends you are concerned with, there are formal channels you can go through before I'll give this matter any more of my grief. I _just _want a peaceful life for Frisk."

"Uh-...Right, then," Oxton spat. "Sorry to pop in on you like this, Ma'am. We'll give you a proper heads-up should we have more questions. We'll, ehh...be on our way now. Shall we?"

Officer Nora had shoved her hands into her coat's pockets and had been giving Toriel an intense look the whole time. She pulled out a card and set it down on the coffee table.

"If anything comes to mind that you want to tell us," Nora offered, "we're just a phone call away."

Toriel nodded politely at that, her body weak with stress.

"Have a good afternoon," Nora said with a nod, heading for the door. She seemed perturbed, and Toriel was concerned by that. They didn't quite buy her story, as much as she'd tried to stick to the script.

"Hang in there, Miss," Oxton said warmly, quietly, extending her arm.

Toriel accepted the vibrant woman's grasp, and was given a supportive handshake.

"The world could always _use_ more heroes," Oxton said coyly. "An' you're this _kid's _hero, eh? I bet it's true."

"Th-thank you," Toriel mumbled, surprised by the gesture.

They shared an odd moment of mutual respect. Toriel almost felt that same glow she did on the job with her students. The heart of a child, this cop had. It was refreshing, to say the least, after her previous encounters with the APD.

"_Welp. _G'day, then, Luv." The woman gave her a wink and another two-fingered flick of the wrist as a send-off.

"Farewell, Ma'am," bid Toriel.

Carefully closing the door behind her, Lena breathed out a long sigh as she followed Aloy out into the hallway. They hit the elevator of the apartment building.

"Rough stuff, in'it?" Lena lamented quietly, hands in her pockets as she watched Aloy plug away at buttons on the wall. "Dredgin' up what that poor mum's been through. Felt like a bit of a bastard, waving 'round that photo. Should've known better, eh? Honestly thought that were the kid we're after. Real similar look, from the photos you showed me."

"She's hiding something," Aloy cited bluntly, side-stepping Aloy's meanderings.

"Oh, abso-bloody-_lutely_," Lena chuckled with a sniff, dabbing her sleeve at her nose as the elevator whirred and bobbed. "But her heart's in the right place, don't ya think?"

"Yea, probably," sighed Aloy as the elevator wobbled into place on the ground floor. "But good intentions don't excuse obstructing the truth."

_-ding!-  
_The elevator doors opened.

"Even if she's innocent," said Aloy, "she's protecting someone who _isn't. _Which...I don't know, kind of makes her _not _so innocent at that point, doesn't it?"

The pair headed down the entrance hall of the building, and Lena caught herself doubting her usual optimism. She _wanted _to think that things were that simple, but she knew they weren't. Especially not in Arcadia.

"Mm." Lena could feel her expression wither in reaction to these thoughts. "Rather not dwell on that bit for now. I just hope the kid's all right."

"Speaking of," said Aloy, shoving the entrance door open with her elbow, "at least we have a little more to go on. Did you find anything we can use?"

"Not sure cell pics are of much 'use' if we didn't get permission to take 'em, but...-"

"What'd you get?" Aloy pressed, eager to bounce over this whole 'conflicted feelings' thing Lena was throwing out there.

Lena puffed a bit of steam into the air and took out her phone, handing it over.

As Aloy swiped through her recent photos, Lena tried to recap.

"Mummy Tori seems to like gardening, biology, baking, aaaaand...her kids."

"What? Don't-...Please don't call her that," Aloy grumbled.

"What?"

"'Mummy Tori?' Seriously? What are you, five?"

"Cripes, A, just tryin' to...lighten this up a bit, though."

"I get it," Aloy said disparagingly. "I just-...Can we _please _focus on this today? I've been indulging in your-..."

Lena felt pricked.

"My _what_?" she asked defensively.

"We're on the job right now," Aloy cited, a little shaky as she saved face. "We've played by your rules all day. Can we please just take this seriously now that we have something to work with?"

That prick had punctured the skin and some guilt was bleeding out.

"R-right, yea. Sorry, Luv."

The duo crossed the street in bitter silence.

By the time they hit the next block, Aloy let out a dissatisfied breath.

"I don't mean to be like this," Aloy said, sticking out her elbow. Lena looped her hand through it, clutching at Aloy's arm as they walked. Aloy continued, "I'm just scared of fucking this up again. OK? If Amari thinks we're distracting each other, she's...gonna take it to Morrison, and...that's gonna be that."

"What, _Jack? _Jackie Boy?"

"_Chief _Jackie Boy," Aloy grunted. "Why do you _call _him that, anyway?"

"_Awh, _you know me an' him go back," Lena said. "Trust me, Luv, he wouldn't do that to us. I wouldn't let him."

"Yea, I'd...rather not leave it to chance."

"It's not chance," Lena insisted, pawing her fingers against the medallion around her neck. 

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

_Olivia ('Sombra'),_ _Fareeha ('Pharah'), and Ziegler ('Mercy') originate from __**Overwatch **__(Blizzard)__**  
**__Ellie and Joel originate from __**The Last of Us **__(Naughty Dog)_  
_Frank originates from __**Life is Strange **__(DontNod)_  
_Sans, Papyrus, Toriel, and Alphys originate from __**Undertale **__(toby fox)_


	3. Episode 3

_**(REMINDER: this story is designed to be read in PDF format. I cannot link to that here, but you can find a link on AO3.  
Which, actually, even just reading this on AO3 would be better than here.)**_

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)

**Episode 3**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Everything was in order. Nice and tidy. Her keyboard was clean, her mouse was charged, her screen was clear and dust-free. Her pens and pencils were aligned properly, her clipboard was evenly placed and ready for use. Everything seemed optimally positioned and poised for efficiency.

Isabelle was just returning from her lunch break, a refreshing and much-needed pick-me-up courtesy of The Roost Café. The place was nestled right near City Hall, at the heart of Arcadia, and Isabelle went there so often that the barista had her order memorized: mocha beans, lots of milk, three spoonfuls of sugar. Everything was always in order there, always timely, always the same. Nice and cozy.

She straightened her red bow tie tie, ensuring it was squarely center above her plaid green vest, set over a white blouse. The vest helped hide her stomach bulge a little, but she was a bit self-conscious of it all the same. Her wavy blonde hair was carefully brushed, with puffy bangs parted down the middle, long waves flowwing down past her shoulders, and a bushy top-tail wrapped in place by a ribbon band that had a small golden bell attached. Her round face, chubby cheeks, and soft olive eyes often elicited gentler reactions from those around her, which...was _good, _but when she was trying to be taken seriously, her short-stature and child-like features hindered a bit more than they helped.

Regardless, she was going to keep at her routine, keep working hard, keep trying to hold Arcadia together.

Isabelle was ready to take on the rest of her day.

Which, as it turned out, started with a phone call.

"Mayor's Office," Isabelle greeted with her cheerful, sweet syllables. "How may I assist you?"

[ "Isabelle?" ]

"O-Oh, Ms. Toriel?" Isabelle was a bit slack-jawed. She knew that wonderful woman's voice quite well. Her boss _had _been married to her, once upon a time, and Isabelle had always thought fondly of the madame, staying on mostly positive terms even after the Mayor's divorce.

[ "Just Toriel is fine, Dear." ]

"Right, yes, of course."

[ "I've been trying to get a hold of that bum for an hour now..." ]

Isabelle was always uncomfortable with the, erm, less-than-ideal way Ms. Toriel referred to the Mayor. She never really knew how to handle it. Asgore Dreemurr was a nice man, she didn't understand why Toriel was so prickly toward him.

"Ah! Yes, my apologies, Ma'am. He's been at a meeting while I've been on break."

[ "Oh. I see." ] A pause of consideration. [ "Is that useless lug back in the office yet?" ]

"_Ummm, _well...-" Isabelle drew large, careful letters on the top page of her clipboard's notepad.

{ **TORIEL**}

"Let me..._check_," Isabelle stalled for time, spinning round in her chair and flashing the notepad at her boss.

Mr. Asgore Dreemurr was huddled over his desk, pinching his stout fingers at his fluffy white beard.

Darnit. He was focused on some paperwork. Her phone still wedged against her cheek with her shoulder, Isabelle waved her clipboard about.

"Just a moment," she murmured courteously into her phone, flailing her fretful hands until they caught the Mayor's spectacled gaze.

Mr. Asgore, as he often preferred to be called, merely blinked back at her, his eyes widened behind his glasses with some surprise. He squinted at Isabelle's notepad.

[ "Isabelle," ] prodded Toriel plainly.

Mr. Asgore's expression waned nervously at Isabelle's writing. He shook his head sheepishly.

[ "You work in the same room," ] Toriel pointed out with flat impatience.

Isabelle flashed the Mayor a desperate, concerned look, nodding in protestation of his avoidance.

"Y-yes, I'm...simply making sure he's not...-"

[ "This is important." ]

Mr. Asgore's head shrunk into his shoulders and his pen-writing became more fervent.

[ "Please have him call me, Isabelle." ]

Isabelle tried waving the notepad toward him again, and he ignored it rather purposefully.

"Right, yes, certainly, Ms. Toriel."

[ "_Just _Toriel." ]

"He's-...Um, he's occupied at the moment, but...I'll ensure he contacts you shortly."

[ "Tell him that if he does _not, _I'll be paying him a visit in person." ]

Isabelle could still remember the last time that had transpired – she'd shown up drunk on wine, intercepted a pizza delivery driver, and had hurled the Mayor's own pizza at him like a frisbee, right in his office.

Isabelle, naturally, had been stuck cleaning up the mess.

"_O-oh, _there'll be no need for you to visit," Isabelle shakily assured, her demeanor withering. Ms. Toriel was the most intimidating woman Isabelle knew, despite her words and voice being the softest she knew. "He'll call you."

[ "Thank you, Isabelle." ]

Mr. Asgore was shaking his head and flashing out his palms dismissively.

"No problem, Ma'am. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Her phone still pinched between her chubby cheek and her shoulder, Isabelle shot the Mayor a stern pout, pointing a furious finger at the text on her clipboard: { **TORIEL**}

[ "That will be all," ] Toriel replied. [ "Have a good day, Dear." ]

The Mayor groaned tiredly, planting his face into his palm.

"Take care, Ms. Toriel."

_Oh, whoops! __**Just **__Toriel!_

A sigh from the other line, then _-click!-_

Isabelle let slip a tired sigh herself, dropping the clipboard into her lap and un-sticking her cell phone from her face.

"Sir," she lamented, "I don't think it's wise to leave her waiting. You know how she gets..."

"I'm _quite _busy today," Mr. Asgore cited, fussing with his tie and glasses. His phone vibrated on his desk, paralyzing him momentarily. He exchanged his wary glance for Isabelle's nervous one before silencing his phone.

Isabelle sighed, spinning her desk chair 180 before hopping up to her feet. She waddled a few paces back to the Mayor's desk and glared him over. He dodged her tactic with ease. Pouting impatiently, she unlocked his phone for him – she knew his password. She answered the call with speakerphone.

[ "Hello?" ]

Asgore's expression flinched at the sound of Ms. Toriel's voice. He gave Isabelle a desperate, pleading micro-expression before Toriel made him flinch again.

[ "What have you done _this _time?" ]

"Ah, wh-what?" Asgore blurted, fussing with papers on his desk. "Toriel! My-...Isabelle was just-..." He trailed off, clearing his throat as he picked up the phone and switched off the speakerphone. "Ahem. You needed to speak with me?"

[ "_Why _is the APD spying on me and my child?" ]  
"Wh-? I-I wouldn't...know anything about-" Asgore fretfully dismissed Isabelle with his hand.  
[ "Two officers were just here. They were asking questions." ]  
"To my knowledge, all of your...-"

Asgore watched his assistant plop back into her desk and begin typing away at her computer.

[ "Asgore." ]  
"Yes! _Mm. _The paperwork should...all be in order, I don't see what...-"  
[ "_Should _be?" ]  
"_Is. _It is."  
[ "I should _hope _so! If Frisk is taken away-...If I have to lose _another_ one, Asgore, so _help _me...-" ]  
"N-No need to worry! Nothing to worry about!"

Asgore noticed Isabelle's curious glance toward him, and he gave her a nervous smile back with a complimentary nod.

[ "Whatever the issue is, you had best resolve it." ]  
"Yes. Yes, yes. Of course."

[ "..." ]

"Tori?"

Oh. Ah. She'd hung up.

Isabelle cleared her throat and spun back round in her seat, tapping away at her keyboard.

Typing as she spoke, Isabelle offered, "Is there any way I can assist with Ms. Toriel's...concerns?"

"N-No, I'll see to it myself. Thank you."

"What is it that has her so upset _this _time?"

"Ah, it's nothing." Asgore insisted, his face wrinkling with faux dismissal. "Nothing to be worked up over. Just more personal complications."

"You have quite a few of those with Ms. Toriel," Isabelle noted warily. "It often feels as though she can't be pleased."

"So it seems," Asgore sighed, sliding his fingers through his bushy white beard.

He let his mind wander to the past as he surveyed a desk photo depicting a Toriel from an older time. She had been happy once. Asgore wondered if she ever would be again.

**/\/\\+1+0+1+\/\/**

Chloe's old, reliable truck sputtered to a stop at the cramped parking slot wedged on the side of the street. She dunked some change into the parking meter and pulled out the oil-and-coffee-spattered piece of loose-leaf she'd been given.

Entering the familiar shop, Chloe savored the smells of wood, sawdust, and plastic. The shop was nice and empty and slow, just the way Chloe liked it.

"Welcome to the Ol' Pickaxe, how may-..." The clerk gave pause, popping her head out from behind a shelf off to the side. "Oh. Hey, Chloe," she greeted, dropping what little formality she'd been carrying.

She had thick goth makeup over a black, laced shirt. Atypical for what you'd expect from a hardware store getup, but then again, the chick hadn't exactly picked her occupation, and she was her own boss, to boot, so. Yea.

"Bea," Chloe greeted the woman with a casual nod, heading for the counter.

"Got an order from Brigitte for me, huh?" Bea guessed, dusting her hands off on her jeans as she circled round the counter. "She gave me a call this morning, said to expect her 'newcomer.' So." She finished patting off her palms and crossed her arms. "How's that place treating you, anyway?"

"Been all right," Chloe said. "Thanks for the rec, by the way."

"No problem, just happy to see you working hard," said Bea, eyeing the piece of paper Chloe was holding. "Now, what's Ms. Lindholm need this time?"

Chloe slapped the wrinkled sheet down on the saw-dust riddled countertop, and deftly slapped her palm on the small bell on the counter, shocking a shrill -_DING. .g .g!_\- throughout the premises. The sharp sound caused Bea to flinch with irritation.

"Swear to _Hylia,_" Bea hissed with flared nostrils,"if you hit that thing again..."

"Sorry, sorry," Chloe squeaked playfully, shrugging wildly with a bright grin.

"You're just as childish as...-" Bea trailed off, but Chloe knew where her mind had gone.

"Saw 'em last night," Chloe mentioned in passing. "Musta rubbed off on me."

Bea's eyes flickered a weird way.

"Must've," Bea bitterly mumbled as she ran her finger across the mess of an order sheet. "Wh-?" Bea's eyes narrowed with impatience and she flicked the wrinkled paper at Chloe. "The _hell _does _this _say?" She tapped the back of her wrist on one of the items.

Chloe peered at it, trying to make out her boss's writing.

"Bomber...Oil?" she mumbled, scrunching up her face.

Bea sighed, dropping the sheet on the counter.

"_Bowser _Oil?" she corrected.

Chloe snapped her fingers and nodded.  
"Sure. That."

Bea pondered, "Why _that _brand? Ironclad _never _orders that stuff, it's too cheap."

Chloe shrugged.

"Probably cutting some costs this month," Chloe theorized. "Apparently we ain't doin' so hot lately."

Bea's brows popped up as she nodded spitefully.

"_Well, _I know how _that_ goes..." she acknowledged. A sigh followed. Bea resumed inspecting the list. She tiredly mumbled out, "Eh, outta the Aran batteries – that's the brand of impact wrenches you guys have, isn't it?"

Chloe's eyes went wide as her gaze slid away from Bea's deadpan look.

Chloe shrugged, glancing at the different flavors of gum stacked on a small rack at the counter. She caught Bea's glare and scratched her neck.

"Uh, _probably?_" Chloe hazarded. Fuckin' batteries, what did it matter?

Bea sighed and shook her head.

"Orange grip?" Bea cited dryly. "Green chuck? Red highlights?"

"What?"

"The power tools," Bea mumbled, her patience cracking. "That's the color scheme for Arans. That what you use?"

Chloe was caught off guard by the sting of frustration in Bea's worn out stare.

"Sounds familiar," Chloe figured, feeling a bit bad for having not double-checked these things.

Bea swiped a pen from a coffee mug on the counter and went to scribble a note on the coffee-stained shopping list. The pen's ink seemed dry. After trying and failing with it, Bea irritably tossed it to the floor and grabbed another that worked.

"'Kay. Now. For the flex-heads, she likes Lombax ones, right?"

Another awkward pause. Another shrug.

"_Lehhht's _try giving Brigitte a call," Bea decided testily, going to take out her phone.

"Wh-_OK, _OK, wait up," Chloe eased as casually as she could muster, flicking her hands around. "Maybe let's..._not _do, and say we did?"

Beatrice's expression was cold, dull, and unchanging.

"_I'll _call her," Chloe insisted, taking out her own phone and nearly dropping it in her haste.

Beatrice nodded slightly at this and jotted another note down on the list.

Chloe rocked on her heels slightly as she listened to the buzzing of her phone trying to reach her boss.

[ "Tja!" ]

"Heyyyyy, Brigs, just, uh-..."  
[ "What's going on?" ]  
"Yea, so. I'm at the Pickaxe, and, like, just double-checking...for...-"

Chloe's brain slipped. Something about power tools?

"Your impact wrenches," Bea flatly reminded. "They Aran brand?"

Chloe nodded and said into her phone, "We use Aran impact wrenches, right?"

[ "Sure do. Need a couple of battery replacements on those." ]

Chloe's eyes slid back to Bea and she nodded confirmation, to which Bea scribbled another notation on the list.

[ "Any other questions?" ]

Chloe shrugged at Beatrice, who grumbled, "Flex-heads?"

"Aaaand the flex-head wrenches?"

[ "Ahhhh, whichever she has handy." ]

Chloe shook her head slightly and popped up a shoulder, to which Bea sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Lombax it is, then," Bea muttered, taking the list with her to a back room. "I'll get on this," she called as she vanished from sight. "Should have everything but the Aran batteries – let her know I'll get those to you next week."

"Sounds like Bea's got things handled," Chloe advised to Brigitte, wandering aimlessly through an aisle. "Except the batteries, gotta wait a few days on those."

[ "Understood. And hey, you OK?" ]

"Huh?" Chloe was startled by the sudden ask.

[ "You just seem..._off_ today." ]

"Oh." Chloe had come to a standstill, gawking at a section for garden hoses. "Yea, guess I am," she admitted. She wasn't used to superiors, like..._giving _a shit? This was confusing. "Just, eh...overwhelmed, a bit. Ya know?"

[ "You're used to slower-paced work," ] Brigitte noted. [ "But you're picking things up quick. No place to go but up!" ]

"Yea," Chloe agreed, with some hesitation. She could hear some commotion on the other side of the call.

[ "What do you think you're _doing_?" ] Brigitte was grumbling to someone at the shop.

[ "_-clang-_" ]

A sigh from Brigitte.

[ "Well, I've got a mess to clean up..." ]

"Sounds fun."

[ "Send Santello my regards." ]

"Will do, Boss Lady. Be back in a while."

[ "Adjö." ]

The call ended, and Chloe noticed she had a new text message from a number she didn't recognize.

( I see humans but no humanity. All the devils are still here. )-

-( ? ) - Chloe replied. What the hell?

She got an immediate reply.

( You were supposed to leave. )-  
( Leave Arcadia in the dust. )-

-( who is this? )  
Chloe could feel her chest tighten with fear.  
She knew who it was.

( Who do you think, Chloe? )-

_Rachel._  
-( wtf? )  
-( why are you back in town? )

( Maybe I never left. ;P )-  
_Ugh._

_-_( srsly WHY? )

( Life needs a little mystery, Chloe. ;3 )-

-( cut the shit rachel. )  
-( frank says we need to talk. )

( And since when did you ever do what he says? )-

-( since my ass is grass if I don't? )  
-( just tell me wtf u want and get this over with. )

( Where's the fun in that? Why not play a little hooky? )-

-( says the hookER )

( Oh ouch, my FEELINGS. )-  
( Come on. I'll meet you right now. )-  
( Just say where. )-

-( on the job )  
-( just tell me what you're up to )

( Wow, you got really boring after getting hitched, huh? )-  
( Your BFF got you all domesticated, didn't she? )-  
( Does she know just how low under the table you're diving lately? )-

-( leave her outta this )  
-( what do you want? )

-_DING. .g .g!_-

Chloe's whole body twitched at the shrill ringing of the desk bell. Bea was leaned over the counter, palm hovering the bell, a dry smile on her face.

"Sweet revenge," Bea taunted with a deadpan expression.

"Fuck," Chloe breathed out, hiding her phone in her coat pocket. She approached the counter, wiping sweat and grease from her face with the back of her wrist. "Done me a damned _spook, _Bea."

"What...?" Bea mumbled, raised her brow.

Chloe shook her head with dismissal and asked, "The shit ready to go?"

"Will be," Beatrice said through a deep breath and a steady nod. "I've got Germ getting you set up. Got room in that rust-bucket of yours?"

"Should, yea," Chloe confirmed with a nod. "Already have it parked out on the side lot for ya, so...-"

A couple of stoic nods between them as silence lingered over the pair.

Chloe checked her phone. She had a reply.

-( what do you want? )

( The same thing I've always wanted. )-  
( This city was supposed to be mere prologue. )-  
( Remember? )-  
( Yet here we still are. )-  
( Stuck. )-

-( so fucking get what you want and GO )  
-( that's what you always do.. )  
-( I never stopped you before )

( I was in a desperate place back then and you KNOW it. )-  
( Things are going better now. )-  
( Can't we be grown-ups and talk things out? )-

-( fuck off Rachel. )

_Pff. _Yea. OK. Like Chloe was going to just pretend like everything was fine just because some time had passed. But there was also too much on the line for her to _not _try talking with Rachel. Still, wasn't the right time. She opted to sit on that for a bit before confronting it.

"You like it at Ironclad?" Beatrice asked, breaking the quiet as she scooped up a clipboard.

"Huh? _Oh, _yea. Brigitte says 'hi,' bee-tee-dubs. Thanks again."

"No sweat," Bea said, giving Chloe quite the judgmental glance. It was about the 'bee-tee-dubs' bit, Chloe knew. Chloe tried too hard, people mocked her for it, aaaaand she tried harder, come to think. Owned it.

"For reals, though," Chloe insisted. "Really helped us out."

"_Everybody_ needs some help once in a while."  
_-cli-click- _Bea pulled out a retractable pen and began to scribble at her clipboard.

"Lotta folks are down on their luck lately," Chloe muttered, hanging her hands in her pockets by the thumbs. She drummed her fingers against her thighs. "Means a lot to, uh-...Ya know. Have an opportunity like this. I _still _don't know why she hired me."

Bea's brows tipped up briefly.

"_Eh, _can't say I do, either, but...at least you made the effort. Took the job. Not everyone is so willing."

_-cli-click- _Bea retracted the pen and set it and the clipboard down on the countertop.

"Not everyone has the _choice_," Chloe brought up pointedly.

"_Yea._ Well." Bea sniffed, reaching for a jacket she had hung up on the back wall. "Sometimes we have to suck it up and be adults about things."

She gestured her head, signaling Chloe to follow her through the back of the store. Passing through the back door and around the corner of the building, they could see Bea's underling loading items up into Chloe's truck, parked on the side.

Beatrice pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. She took a drag and sighed the smoke into the winter air.

"'Bout that time, huh?" Chloe mumbled, opting to take a smoke break, herself.

"Perks of being my own boss, I guess," Bea murmured drearily, the cigarette hanging from her lips. "Break time is when I _say _it is."

Chloe pulled out her half-empty pack of cigarettes and grabbed one.

"Huff-N'-Puff?" Beatrice balked, referring to the box Chloe had pulled out. "Crap brand," she cited.

"_What?_" Chloe grunted."They're fine."

"They're crap," Bea insisted with a smug smirk. She flashed her own box: Manakete brand. _Ooooh, fancy-fancy._

"Miss Hoity-Toity over here," Chloe razzed. She extended her cig to Bea, who flicked her lighter and lit it up.

"Stuck running _this _place," Bea ruminated. "Might as well have _something _nice to look forward to."

"So you're really in charge now?" Chloe wondered. "Your old man, he still, uh...-?"

Bea nodded bitterly. She sniffed before sucking in another drag – slowly, savoring the burn.

"Couldn't you, like...let a home take care of him? Sell the place off?" Chloe warily tossed out the idea. "Or...-?" She shrugged, second-guessing if she should've even said anything.

Beatrice tapped ashes off of her cigarette, watching as Germ dropped a jug of antifreeze on his toe.

"He's my _dad_," Bea stated frigidly. "I'd figure _you _of all people would get why I'm not just gonna give up on him."

Chloe took a breath to consider that. If her dad was still alive...-

"I mean, I _get _it," Chloe conceded, "but my mom went through the _same _kinda shit your dad did, and _she _could just have easily given up – but she didn't. She didn't keep me _trapped. _She let me make a future for myself – with Max."

"Lucky _you_," Bea bitterly grumbled. "I don't see anyone _swooping _in to save me, here. I get to be the fucking 'hero,' and let me tell you – saving people? In real life? Not so glamorous."

"It's just-...Bee-Bee, he's got you condemned to this dead-end job you're _sick _of," Chloe countered. She took a puff and blew a smoke ring as she contemplated her frustration for her friend. "I mean, how much longer can you keep this place afloat, anyway?"

"Don't worry about me," Bea dryly advised. "My dad doesn't have me 'condemned' to _anything. _This is _my _choice. And don't you have your _own_ problems? I can tell you're in over your depth at Ironclad. Lindholm's got a lot of patience, but _trust _me, you don't want to test her."

"I won't," Chloe defensively assured.

They both knocked off some ash and smoked in sync for a moment.

"You won't, huh?" Beatrice mused after the pause.

Chloe was irked by the tone. What was Bea's problem lately? Mae was right. Something was up.

"Why'd you refer me to that auto shop, anyway?" Chloe asked bluntly.

"My family's got ties to the Lindholm's," said Bea with a shrug. "Brigitte's always been good at keeping people out of trouble, too." She shot Chloe a glance with a raised brow. "Besides, you were showing some real effort, there, when you fixed up Angus' car. _Effort, _ya know? Work. I remember how you _used _to be, Chloe. When we were idiot kids? Before _life _happened. It's good to see you acting more your age for a change, living up to what you're capable of, instead of letting yourself...fucking _fester._ You just need a shove in the right direction now and again, that's all."

Chloe sighed smoke through her nostrils.

"Cool. So _I_ get new opportunities," Chloe posited, "_I _get all this 'potential' to live up to, but Mae doesn't?"

"Difference between you two is that _you? _Chloe?" Bea tapped a few ashes off of her cigarette, pointing at Chloe with the same hand. "You're willing to step up when you need to." She tucked the cig back in her lips. "You get shit done. Mae's just...-" Bea trailed off with a wistful shake of her head. "I don't even know."

"If you give them a _chance, _maybe they'll have a reason to 'step up.'"

"I have _given _Mae chances. Too many. Sh-...They piss it away, _every _time."

"Dude, look." Chloe took in a deep breath. Balancing on one foot, she lifted the opposing boot, put out her cigarette on it, and flicked the dead stub into a nearby trash bin. "Mae's in a bad place, I know that. _I've _been in a bad place – Max pulled me out. She understood me, we _grew up _together, and even after that fell off for a while, we still put the pieces back, picked up where we left off."

Bea took her cigarette out of her mouth.

"True," Bea acknowledged simply, spitting out a gray wisp. She shrugged. "I'm just-..." She stared at the ember on the tip of her cigarette with a dull, worn look. "What you have with Max? That's _special. _That's the exception to the rule. Be fucking grateful."

Bea dropped the cigarette to the tarmac and stamped it out with her raised boot heel.

"You don't think I _am _fucking grateful?" Chloe retorted, pressing a defensive hand into her chest. "Every damned _day_, am I grateful. Max _saved _me. Things changed because of her. _Life _changed, because of her. I didn't have a _future, _and now I _do_."

"_One _of us does, then, huh?"

Beatrice flicked her cig stub into the trash as Germ flipped the tailgate shut on Chloe's old truck.

"Yea, see?" Bea posed, nodding her head to Chloe's banged up vehicle. "You like to hold onto shit, even when it's broken down. You're the type to find a way to make it work somehow. Just like your mom did. Just like I am with my dad. But Mae? Not Mae. They're not _capable._"

"Maybe if you gave 'em another shot, Bea, you'd-"  
"Your order's all set," Bea cut her off, heading inside. "I'll go get your invoice."

"Dude." Chloe sighed, following her in. "Just like that? You're done? You're over it?"

"Never said that," Beatrice grunted, not even looking back as she headed for the shop's front counter.

"People _miss _you," Chloe reminded.

"I miss them, too," Bea said as she tore off the invoice from the clipboard she'd been scribbling on earlier. "That's life." She wriggled the sheet at Chloe, who took it after swapping impatience looks with her.

"So, you'll keep your dad around, even when he acts like an ungrateful prick," Chloe grumbled, "but your own friends, who actually _want _to see you happy? They get fuck-all from you. Awesome."

"Maybe I _am _happier this way," Beatrice snipped, her thick layer of dry, scaly dullness chipping away to reveal a vulnerable frustration in her bloodshot eyes. "Think of that? Huh? You think I _like _this? You think I _like _throwing my future away? Unlike you – unlike Mae – I didn't drop out of college because I couldn't function. I did it to save this _stupid _fucking store." Bea ripped off her jacket and rigidly hung it back on the coat rack she had set up. "To save what family I have _left._"

Her eyes sparked against Chloe's, but Chloe...had no witty retort for this.

Beatrice rambled on, "Mae doesn't need to be 'saved,' _you _didn't need to be 'saved.' Stop romanticizing this bullshit – it's not _romantic _to let someone else drag your lazy ass up and around. Just because Max had the energy, had the _patience,_ to save you from yourself? Doesn't mean _I _have to do it for Mae. They're not my responsibility. I'm not their keeper – _not _anymore."

Bea's stare burned like coals at Chloe's brain for a few seconds of tense silence. Some clinging and clanging of Germ finagling items in the stock room echoed through to the store floor.

"What did Mae do to get you so _pissed _at them?" Chloe demanded, keeping her voice low.

"Mae gave up the _one _fucking thing I wanted most," Bea cited, flashing an index finger. "The _exact _thing I can't have."

Chloe shrunk at Bea's seething whispers of aggravation.

"I kinda-..." Bea shrugged wildly, her patience now burned and discarded. Stamped under her boot. "I kinda _hate _them. OK?"

Wide-eyed at this revelation – Chloe thought Bea and Mae were BFF's? – Chloe sighed, hands on her hips, and tapped her foot against the tile floor.

"All right," Chloe said, bewildered. "_That_ what you want me to tell Mae, then?"

Bea's eyes flickered, like wind passing over the coals.

"No," Beatrice sighed, running a hand over her tired face. "Don't-...I don't want you to tell them _any _of this."

"Because _you're _going to," Chloe concluded. "Right? That's, ehm...-" She smiled sheepishly. "That's what an _adult _would do, anyway." She shrugged coyly.

Bea huffed a soft chuckle and shook her head disparagingly.

"My whole life's a fucking embarrassment," Beatrice said. "But at least it's in order. Mae? Mae's a mess. And it's not my job to clean that up."

"What about the mess you have _with _her?"

"What, our issues?"

"Yea."

Bea shrugged, disgruntled. "I'll sort that shit myself, sooner or later."

"Fair enough," Chloe conceded, flashing up her palms as she made for the back door of the shop. "Look, I-...I'm sorry, maybe it's not my business, but...-"

"Nah, I get it," Bea assured, softening her edge. She leaned over the store counter on her elbows. Her black ponytail sagged over her shoulder, veiling her eyes from Chloe's gaze. She rested her face in one palm.

"Well. In case you...change your mind," Chloe offered, "I know your group's trying to get band practice going tonight. They, uh-...They wanted me to ask you, which I guess is why I even brought this up, so...-"

"Does it get better?"

"Huh?"

Bea flicked her head to the side, tossing her ponytail back over her shoulder. She stared at Chloe with a forlorn look.

"_This._" She gestured indistinctly at the ceiling. "Does it get _better?_"

Chloe tapped her fingers against her hips as she figured how to reply. She could tell that Bea's eyes were damp.

"It has its ups and downs," Chloe admitted, backing away from the door and heading over to the counter. "I mean, you know. You figure out ways to...-" Chloe shrugged, letting her head sag to one side. "-...make it better. Yea." She watched Bea rub her fingers at her eyes and sniff. Chloe then added, "Not alone, though. I _tried._"

"Uh-huh," Bea murmured with a shaky breath. Steadying herself, she laughed slightly.

"What?" Chloe checked.

"Just...-" Bea's eyes lingered elsewhere. "I _thought _I didn't care anymore."

Chloe smirked knowingly, her chest bubbling with sympathy.

"I know the feeling," Chloe said.

"How do you just...-" Beatrice shook her head and let another exhausted breath spill out. "-...pick up where you left off?"

"Dunno," said Chloe, reached an arm out and giving Bea a brusque pat on the arm. "But I'd go with, like..._trying?_ That's probably a good starting point."

"Illuminating advice," Bea chuckled, her dry, ember-like glow back to its old self.

"Chloe Price: Fount of Wisdom. You should see me when I'm high – _that's _when the _real_ nuggets of philosophical ambrosia flow from this fountain." She wrapped her knuckle against her forehead.

"Might have to take you up on that some time."

"Sounds like a way to 'try,' anyway. So. What do I tell Mae?"

Bea shrugged, shook her head, sighed. Just about every uncertain nonverbal one could squeeze into a single moment.

"Tell them-..." Bea rolled her eyes and smirked. Her gravelly voice croaked with a certain warmth as she gave in: "Tell them I guess I'll see them at band practice tonight."

Chloe shot Bea finger guns as she smoothly strode her way out of the store. Then she found herself annoyed for having used the gesture, embarrassed by where she had picked that up from.

She checked her phone as she walked to her truck.  
Speaking of...-

( Can't we be grown-ups and talk things out? )-

-( fuck off Rachel. )

( Max gets a second chance but I don't, huh? )-

_No. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not falling for it. Not taking that bait.  
You know where that path leads, Chloe.  
___  
___'How now? What is 't thou canst demand?'___  
____**'**___**My liberty.'**_

_Chloe could feel her insides beginning to boil. Rage, embarrassment, frustration, regret, all swirling in a bubbling soup of expired ingredients._

_Chloe replied to the text._

_ -( max gave ME a second chance, too )  
-( you know. )  
-( it's a TWO WAY street. )  
-( stay out of our territory. )  
-( leave our customers alone. )__  
_

_Rachel answered._

_( Awake, dear heart, awake. )-  
( Thou hast slept well. )-  
( Awake. )-__  
_

What the actual FUCK _rrghhhgghgh?_

Chloe hammered out more texts.

-( I am very awake dude )  
-( leave me alone. )  
-( leave my wife alone. )  
-( leave my friends alone. )  
-( leave my business partners alone. )

Leaning against her truck in the bitter winter afternoon, Chloe briefly considered trying to meet with Rachel. But that would be foolhardy.

Rachel's response only whittled down her patience further.

( Wow, I really did a number on you, didn't I? )-  
( So angry. )-  
( I didn't realize I had such power over you... )-  
( Could've made better use of that when I had the chance, hm? )-

Chloe's hand was clenching her phone so tight she might bust the damn thing. Pounding her palm into the driver's door of her truck, the whole vehicle creaked and groaned from the impact.

Chloe initiated a phone call to the number she'd been texting.

It only rung once before it was answered.

[ "Doing this now, are we?" ]

Chloe's heart skipped. She sounded...like Rachel, all right. A bit deeper, perhaps, but those dulcet tones were just as smooth and, in effect, scary as they had once been a decade and change ago.

"I don't wanna see your face," Chloe blurted testily. "Neither does Frank."

[ "Tell me how you _really _feel..." ]

"Cut the bullshit. What'd you _expect_?"

[ "You know what, Chloe? I don't _know. _But I _didn't _expect you to be so pissy with me after all this time." ]

"_Augh-!_" Chloe panted with disbelief. "Um, _yea? _All of this time? _How _long? And _now _you decide to show yourself?"

[ "I didn't exactly get to _decide _how long I was gone..." ]

"_Pshyeah, _well! You sure as fuck decided when and _how _you left..."

[ "Heh. You think so, huh?" ]

"Word from the Nightwings is that you're in league with them now?"

[ "I very well might be..." ]

"Why?"

[ "Why am I ever up to anything in this hellhole city?" ]

"Uh...-?"

[ "Freedom, Chloe. I'm not back here by choice." ]

"Not my problem. Don't _make it _my problem."

[ "Wasn't trying to. I would've figured you'd moved on from doing odd jobs for Frank." ]

"Me, too. But here we are."

[ "You moved on from _me _quick enough..." ]

"Oh, _fuck you, _brought that shit on yourself, Rachel."

[ "_Whuh-howw, _OK. OK. Really? You have _no idea _what I've been through." ]

"No, I haven't. You made _damn _sure of that."

[ "Should've known this would be a mistake..." ]

"Yea. Uh-huh. I always _was _a 'mistake' to you, right?"

[ "That's not fair." ]

"Since _when _the _fuck _have you cared about 'fair?!'"

[ "Look. Whatever. You've obviously already made up your mind about me, so I'm not-" ]  
"You made my mind up _yourself _when you ditched me!"  
[ "I'm _not going to bother _trying to fix a bridge you want to stay broken." ]  
"Good!"  
[ "I was just trying to reconnect, but..._that _clearly isn't going to work." ]  
"It's not. So keep your ass out of Frank's patch."  
[ "I'll do just that. Been a fucking _pleasure, _Chloe Price." ]  
"Likewise, Raych. Fuck off."

Chloe ended the call with a defiant press of her thumb, her cheeks sizzling, her eyes steaming. Rubbing moisture from her face, she suddenly realized how weak in the knees she felt.

She'd once been head-over-heels in love with that woman. Years ago, but still. Just the very sound of her voice, the confirmation that she _existed _in the same physical space, somewhere no more than a half hour's drive away? It haunted Chloe and shook her in a way that made no sense.

But that always been the thing with Rachel Amber – nothing ever made sense once Chloe took a step back. And she had taken so many steps back over the years that a single step toward the girl gone ghost was painfully cold.

Chloe was done with that chapter of her life.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Jill used her tablet at the counter to tally up Sei's order, then accessed the bar's music system on the same device to set a more somber mood to the atmosphere.

_A small Moonblast for my worn-out pal. She looks pretty tuckered out tonight.  
I should probably ask what's eating her..._

Sei, one of Jill's most intimate customers, was a woman with soft facial features, kind eyes, but a shockingly statue-like figure and musculature. Her blue bob-cut hair and gentle blue eyes contrasted her rigid arms and legs. Ex-military, she'd settled down into Arcadia to pursue more low-key business ventures in the private sector – mostly security work. Apparently her most recent gig was doing detail for one of Zaibatsu's research facilities in town. Despite the woman's initial excitement about the new job – it paid well and the hours lined up with her fiancée's schedule – Sei Asagiri was looking worse for wear, and had been showing up at Valhalla less and less.

Jill whipped up the Moonblast without a word – Sei was being uncharacteristically glum – and served the drink without incident.

"Thanks," Sei muttered unceremoniously, taking a hesitant sip. Now that Jill was studying her a bit closely, she noticed that Sei's knuckles looked...scratched? Bruised?

"No problem," Jill replied, cautiously eyeing her friend's hands. "Um-...Did, uh, something happen?" She vaguely gestured her head toward Sei's battered fingers.

"Mm?" Sei hummed through a sip. "_Mm_." She realized what Jill was referring to and tucked her hands in her lap below the counter. Coughing a bit as she recovered from her drinking, she shook her head slightly. "Just a scuffle at work, it's nothing."

"A 'scuffle,' huh?" Jill teased, trying to make light of it. "I thought you said this new gig was going to be easy?"

Sei's eyes glazed over, avoiding Jill's inquisitive glance. She shrugged, gazing into her drink.

"Um...-" Jill was startled. Sei was feeling really bummed, huh? "Sorry, Sei, I didn't mean to...-"

"It's fine," Sei said. Lied. She was lying. It was weird. "I'm just tired. Soemthing...irregular came up at work, and...I dealt with it. But. It was tiring. Can we leave it at that?"

"Yea, yes, of course, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Sei insisted, regaining a bit of that usual glow she carried. With a timid smile, she said, "I know you're simple worrying about me."

"Someone has to," Jill replied. "With Stella being so busy and all."

"We're..._both _too busy," Sei lamented shakily, tapping her thumb against the side of her glass.

Stella Hoshii, Sei's fiancée, came from a big-wig family and had found herself getting involved in business law, helping clean up messes for...well, big-wigs. Jill was willing to guess that Sei getting deeper into security work had been a way to distract her from missing Stella so much, since the woman was hardly even in Arcadia anymore. Apparently she was helping settle some big legal dispute for Cyberlife across the country. She'd been at it since the summer, only visiting Sei every month or two for a weekend. It was having its toll on Jill's friend, she could tell.

There wasn't much Jill felt she could do about it, though.

"Yea," Jill mumbled. "She's going to be in town for Longest Night, though, isn't she?"

Sei's eyes glittered slightly at this reminder, and she nodded. "Mm. She is, yea..."

"See?" Jill flicked up her cleaning rag before going back to washing glasses. "So you have that to look forward to. Right?"

"Praise the Trinity," Sei sighed. "I don't know what I'd do if I was stuck alone on Longest Night..."

"Well." _You could always hang out here with us, right? _"You _won't _be, so...don't worry about it."

"I suppose you're right," Sei acknowledged. "I'll drink to that."

"Jill?!"

Jill's reality swirled sideways toward the voice – one she knew _very _well.

"Boss?" Jill replied, confused.

There was Dana Zane, proprietor of Valhalla, dressed in her usual suit and tie…with a motorcycle helmet on her head. She was flashing her employee a sheepish but hearty grin, tugging up on the helmet.

It seemed to be stuck on the woman's skull.

"Uhhh," Dana eked out with a bashful chuckle, letting her arms sag to her sides. "Can I get a hand?"

Stifling an amused laugh, Jill set down her cleaning rag, dried her hands off, and gestured to Sei that she'd be back.

"Ffffffrrruckin'..._hrrrmmmphh...-!_" Dana was struggling with the helmet.

Jill did her best to hide it, but she secretly adored watching her boss getting up to the clumsy mishaps she did.

Of course, this was intricately tied to how much Jill secretly adored (read: completely and utterly crushed on) her Boss in general. Her cell phone's lock screen was a selfie of her and the Boss with hearts and blush-marks drawn over top. Yea. It was pretty bad.

"Wh-?" Jill chuckled softly, approaching Dana with an amused expression. "How did you...-?"

"Someone left it here," Dana explained with a mild shrug. "It just-..._You _know." More of a hot shrug now, in retort to Jill's face about to burst with laughter.

"And your compulsion was to jam the thing on your head?" Jill teased quietly, reaching her hands out. "Didn't you learn your lesson back with the bucket?"

"Yea, yea," Dana dismissed. "Never gonna let me live the 'bucket' down, are ya? Just get this thing _off, _huh?"

A few grunts and huffs as Jill tried to get the thing off. It was...proving to be a bit difficult.

"How did you get it _on_?" grumbled Jill inbetween yanks. "Also, why does it have a _spike _on top?"

"Clearly it's the, uh...Anarchist's Spike," Dana murmured with a pale expression. "Their symbol. And all that."

Jill took note of the 'anarchist A' on the helmet. But...what was the Boss on about? Jill had never heard of...-

"That was a joke," Dana teased flatly, crossing her arms. "Seriously, though. Can we, uh...-? Can we get this...-?" She strained her wrists against the helmet's rim as it finally gave way.

The helmet slipped and spun out of their grasps, the spike nearly jabbing Jill in the face as it tumbled to the floor – hitting Dana's left foot when it landed.

"Mother-_fucker_," Dana hissed, her face wrinkling for a moment as she shook off her foot.

"You sure have a way of thanking me," said Jill facetiously, seeing some delight in a moment's vulnerability from her Boss.

Dana warily smiled and shook her head, hopping a little on one foot.

"I told you to get it _off_, not to _stab_ me with it," winced Dana, casting a snarky glance at Jill.

Jill smiled devilishly, scooping up the odd helmet.

"Almost stabbed _myself_," she pointed out.

"Eh, well, we wouldn't want _that_," Dana mumbled, limping off a few steps toward her office.

"Maybe you shouldn't put random objects on your head," Gillian chimed from the bar as he poured a beer. "Didn't you learn _anything _from the Bucket Incident?"

"_Zip it!_" Dana growled over her shoulder. "I'll be back here tending to my battle wound."

"You didn't _fight _anyone!" Gill taunted.

"I nobly took an Anarchy Spike to the foot for Jill," said Dana as she reached her door.

"_What?_" Gill called back.

"Just watch the floor for a minute!" Dana belted across the building. "Jill," she commanded.

Carrying the helmet behind her Boss, Jill obediently followed.

Did Jill sneak an admiring glance at Dana's muscular hind-quarters, flexing with each step beneath tight-fit striped slacks?

Yes. Yes, Jill did. It was a beautiful sight as always.

But the rest of Dana was beautiful, too. She was a fairly butch woman who dressed in masculine garb – typically business slacks with vests, ties, and button-down shirts and the like. Also denim, she loved denim in her casual attire, which Jill did _not _mind in the least. Flat-chested, wide-thighed, with thin but shockingly stone-like arms, Dana had a certain doofy swagger to her that Jill adored. Her round face, small nose, and keen eyes often held a cocky little smirk as she'd cross her arms as her default stance. Her platinum blonde hair was short, trimmed tight at the back, but given a bit of room to breathe on the sides, curling out slightly. She also had a seemingly ever-present cowlick popping straight off the pop of her forehead that Jill still wasn't sure was intentional or not.

The pair entered Dana's office. It was a compact little room with a futon on one side and a bookshelf on the other. A metal folding chair was leaned up against the side of the desk for when it was needed. There were various pieces of wrestling paraphernalia adorned on the walls, including a signed poster of lucha libre idol Tostada, as well as a replica of the blue mask of Juan Aguacate. Dana had complained that after his championship run, she'd never been able to track the man down for a signature, like he'd become a ghost. And why the interest in wrestling? Well, Dana had tried to keep it secret, but back in the day she'd been an indie wrestler, herself, under the title 'Red Comet.' Her and 'Red Cyclone' had a good-natured if short-lived rivals-turned-partners arc in the Grand Slam circuit.

Not that...Jill cared about wrestling, or anything.

Similarly, Dana's office had traces of her more recent past as a member of the APD, including a photo on her desk of her and someone with a white-haired bowlcut, dressed in uniform. Again, though, that career path hadn't seemed to last long. Dana was always brusque about it and even more tight-lipped than usual when it came to that chapter of her life. Jill could only assume that, like...someone had died? Probably? She honestly had no idea, really. And the Boss wasn't spilling.

And these were only the parts of her history Jill had confirmed were true. Given the countless manufactured rumors that Dana made up about herself to steer people off what was fact – Jill guessed she liked her privacy – it was damned difficult to tell which stories were real, if _any _of them were. Suffice it to say that Dana Zane had a bit of an accomplished yet chaotic past, in either case. For all Jill knew, this whole 'bar-proprietor' thing was just another slab of concrete on the sidewalk of the woman's life. Jill surely hoped not, though.

Then again, who was Jill to judge? Her own life had taken a sideways turn to land her at Valhalla, after all. A turn she had yet to look back on, despite doing what she could to resolve things with her past life.

Jill caught herself gawking at Dana's odds and ends. She had something more recent hanging by the door. One of those mounted fish that sang at you, except it had a human face where a fish's was supposed to be. 'Singin' Seaman' was engraved into its mini plaque. It creeped Jill the fuck out. Gillian, too. They both suspected that the 'creep' factor was the primary reason Dana had kept the thing, which she'd supposedly won from a round of poker against some old wrestling buddy. Then again, after a single day, Dana had ripped the batteries out of the thing. So maybe it creeped her out, too?

"Put that thing somewhere it can't _stab _anyone," Dana requested through a sigh, referring to the helmet Jill still held.

"Oh. Mm." Jill snapped to her senses and set the object on the futon. "Your foot OK?" she checked.

Dana flicked her wrist dismissively, opening her desk laptop.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Probably didn't even leave a bruise."

"You sure?" asked Jill with suspicion. "You made it seem like...-"  
"Wanted an excuse to get you alone for a minute."

"O-Oh?" And there was that stupid damned flutter in Jill's chest.

Dana nodded her head toward the door, and Jill nearly tied her fingers in a knot closing it. Dana had opened her laptop by the time Jill turned back round.

"Look, uh-..." Dana sighed, running her hand across her head and avoiding Jill's eyes. "Wanted you to hear it from me, but-..." She shrugged – mildly – her eyes fluttering in a weird way. "I'll just out n' say it." She stared Jill right in the eyes. "We're getting shut down soon."

Jill needed a moment to process.

"What?"

"Valhalla. We're gonna have to close up shop. Word came from on-high last night."

"Close _up? _Wh-...?" Jill was aghast. That seemed sudden. "_When? _Why?"

Dana planted her elbows on her desk, linked her fingers together, and shook her head with another shrug.

"Don't know. Maybe a couple months? Most? Probably more like a few weeks, though." She rotated the laptop around so Jill could read an e-mail. But Jill had no interest. She wanted to hear what Dana had to say about this. "You can read the...-" Dana trailed off when Jill spun around, shaking her head.

"What happens then?" Jill asked, her voice creaking a little. "What happens when we close?"

"Brian said he's gonna see what he can do, but...-" She trailed off with a sobering dullness to her eyes. It pained Jill to see that – Dana Zane, wearing the look of defeat. It didn't suit the woman.

"Well, what can _I _do?" Jill asked solemnly, facing the desk again.

Dana's laptop flickered and flashed, and the familiar voice spoke from its tinny speakers.

_**-she's abandoning you, Jill.-**_

As usual, Dana didn't react to the voice. No one else ever did.

_**-you know **_I_** would never do that, right?-**_

"Seriously?" Jill sighed irritably.

The face of the woman in the screen grinned and winked as her image flickered and scrambled.

"Well. You could start sending your resume out, I guess?" Dana offered with a baffled '_Pff._' "I'm in talks with the union, I'm gonna see if I can get you set up somewhere else. Maybe a place on the south side."

"I don't _want _a place on the south side," Jill protested, a lump forming in her throat. Her chest was beginning to pound from the stress of the _idea _of losing what she'd built at Valhalla. "I want to make things work _here. _What do you need me to do? Take a pay cut for a while? Or-"  
"Jill," Dana cut her off, her voice startlingly soft.

There was a tense pause as Dana rubbed at her temples, hunching over her desk.

The girl Jill was seeing in the screen yanked one eyelid down and stuck out her tongue, to which Jill rolled her eyes and looked away. Dana closed her laptop and nudged it aside, looking up at Jill. She stretched out her hand across the desk.

"I can tell you're pissed, upset, just-...C'mon," Dana said quickly, quietly, tilting her head up. "Grab that chair, sit down for a sec. Take my hand."

Jill's heart was pounding over conflicting interests.

She begrudgingly took the metal folding chair from the side of Dana's desk. She shoved it open, dropped it onto the floor, and grumpily sat herself down. She scooted forward, stretching out an arm and letting Dana hold her hand.

Dana took her right hand and grasped Jill's left within it. It was a warm, strong hand. Soft, but firm, her grip both safe but rigid.

"Breathe," Dana advised.

Jill spent a few moments going through the breathing exercises Dana had shown her. This had become a ritual of sorts on days when Jill got over-stressed. At that point, she'd sometimes stretch the truth of her exhaustion just to squeeze in these moments with the Boss.

"You good?" asked Dana.

Jill absorbed that precious look of warm concern in Boss' face before letting the moment pass. She nodded and exhaled.

Dana patted her opposing hand against the back of Jill's before disconnecting their grip.

"I'll figure something out for you guys," Dana insisted. "But for now, I'm gonna need you to keep this a secret," Dana stated as solidly as she could.

"What?" Jill balked, a pool of betrayal filling her lungs. "Gill deserves to know just as much as I do."

"And I will _tell _him," Dana eased, flashing her hands in a gesture requesting that Jill keep her voice down. "I'm looking into new work for him, too. I'm not just gonna leave you two dingbats twistin' in the wind, all right? But you _know _how he gets – he'll be damned _useless _if we just drop this on him without any assurances. He's like a cat, he'll land on his feet, just needs a high enough drop."

"What does _that _even mean?" Jill grumbled, running her palm up her forehead. "And-...And why did you tell _me, _then?"

"Needed to tell _someone_," Dana confessed with a wary flick of her wrist. "Who else you think I'm gonna confide in, huh?"

In the midst of this maelstrom of emotions, Jill found some comfort in that glint in Boss' eyes when she said that. A myriad of histories with so many others that knew her so much better, but Jill was consistently – so it seemed – the person Dana allowed in with private matters.

"Well, but...-" Jill took a deep breath, steadying herself. "What about _you_?"

"What _about _me?"

Jill's brows furrowed, the drops of tears she'd been holding back slinking their way out.

"What's next for Dana Zane, traveled woman of many talents?"

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me."

"You _know _that's impossible, right? Me, not worrying?"

"Fair point – guess that's why I told you."

"Why's that?"

"_One _of us should probably be worried, right?" Dana chuckled with a sigh that tapered off into a slight wince of panic. She cleared her throat and nodded, finding her confidence again. "I'm, like, a human Swiss Army knife."

"No kidding."

"If push comes to shove...-" Dana bobbed and tilted her head in a playful way. "-...there's always the circus."

"No," Jill flatly declined the notion. Again. How many times...-?

"Lady of my talents," Dana theorized, "just saying...-"

"_No_," Jill insisted, devolving into a snicker.

"I could do a whole three ring act," Dana continued, smiling, avoiding Jill's intent gaze. "Some flaming swords, throw a bear at me, maybe some trapeze shit..."

"If you end up at a _circus, _I am _not _coming to see."

"_Ouch._"

"It'd be undignified."

"Since when was wrestling a bear _undignified? _That's, like, the _most _dignified thing a human can aspire to do. Which. By the way." She smugly dusted her own shoulder. "I _have done._"

"You have _not_," Jill puffed with a warm shake of her head.

"I _have_," Dana insisted, gaining this child-like defensiveness to her. "You think I'm lying."

"_I_ think your memory's not what it used to be," teased Jill.

"Now you're calling me _old._"

"_Wh-? _No. _Nooo~! _I'm...-"

"You think I'm a hag," Dana accused, pointing out her finger. "A crazy hag."

"Stop," Jill chuckled, swatting Dana's arm away. "You _are_, I mean, but...-"

"Ouch _again!_"

Their snicker-fit dissolved into an awkwardly warm silence that made Jill's face feel like it was dipped in lava. Dana's cool, smug smile cut right through her, to the point she felt ashamed to even keep looking her Boss in the eye.

"I, uh...-" Jill forced a cough into her sleeve, fumbling up from her seat. She could feel sensations sweeping in that she definitely did not need to be feeling, given the circumstances. "Should probably get back to it before Gill starts...-"

"_Ah, _yea," Dana agreed, so much more coolly and collectedly than Jill could. Leaning back in her seat, she mused, "Now _he's _gonna want an extra break."

"We, um...-" Jill folded the metal chair up, setting it to the side. "We should..._talk_. About this whole...-" She spun her index finger in Dana's direction. Her heart skipped at the way Dana's eyes widened with curiosity. "-...the, _um, _the closing. Bar. The bar closing. Thing."

Dana's eyes narrowed and she smirked.

"Yea. We'll figure it out, Jill."

"Right." Jill nodded hastily, hoping her _cheeks weren't lit up like a fucking stoplight. _She bumped her foot on the door in her haste to head out.

Out in the narrow hall of the bar, Jill considered taking a bathroom break just to catch her breath, but Gill was already approaching her.

"_There _you are," he grumbled, slapping her on the shoulder. "I'm getting a little overrun, if...-" A pause, then a quiet, serious, "Everything all right?"

"Fun. _Fine,_" Jill dribbled out quickly, rubbing her eyes and hoping Gill wouldn't die from second-hand embarrassment.

"Ahhh-_huh_," Gill teased, easing her toward the bar. "Had another 'moment' with the Chief, huh?"

"_I don't know what you're talking about,_" Jill pouted facetiously, stubbornly, her arms crossed in defiance.

Gill plainly replied, "Then you won't mind when I use it as ammunition later."

"Low blow," Jill accused as she was escorted to the bar counter.

"Not as low as you making me clean the bathroom after that 'business meeting.'"

"Fuck," Jill grunted, "Fair play."

She noticed that Sei was...gone, having left a tip and an empty glass.  
Damn. Jill felt a twinge of guilt over her seemingly lonely friend.

"Now, then," Gill said, giving Jill a back-pat of solidarity. "Mind getting off Cloud 9 and mixing me a couple Marsblasts for these gentleman?" He nodded to two rowdy-looking, elderly men with braided beards, denim-clad.

"I wouldn't call it-...It wasn't exactly...-" Jill was fussing over Gill's perception of things.  
"Marsblasts," Gill repeated, giving her a wide-eyed look.

"On it," Jill said primly. After taking a brief but meditative breath, she murmured to herself, "Time to mix drinks and change lives."

_Two. With my hands. Mixing! The drinks. Marsblasts.  
Fuck, can't get her smile out of my...-_

Jill's 'imaginary friend' intruded._**-how many times do we have to go over how OUT OF YOUR LEAGUE she is?-**_"I know, I _know_," Jill grumbled, shaking her tumbler more vigorously than usual.

"What?" asked Gill from her right, pouring another beer.

"Huh?" Jill feigned ignorance.

"'You know, you know?'"

"Just...mumbling to myself," Jill dismissed his questioning.

_**-are you tho?-**_

Gil gave her a dubious look as she poured one Marsblast.

"Chief must've really riled you up today, huh?" he observed, passing a beer off to a customer. "Something happen?"

"Happen? N-Not really, she was just-...I-I dunno, seemed down, I, uh...tried to...-" Jill trailed off vaguely, dunking more shots of liquid into her tumbler.

"Oh. Huh." Gil seemed surprised. As he cleaned up an empty glass, he noted, "Now that you mention it, she _has _been acting a little odd tonight."

"R-right? Like...sticking her head into a random _helmet._" Jill shook the tumbler briskly.

"Nah," Gil blew off the notion. "That's _normal _for her."

After a pause of eager mixing – yep, should be blended – Jill shrugged and conceded, "OK, yea. True."

"Everyone has their 'off' days, I guess," Gill pondered, drying the glass he'd just washed.

"Or their off _months_," noted Gil's new regular – that chick with the purple-streaked hair and the intense eyes.

Jill poured the second Marsblast, and took care not to spill them as she slid the glasses down the counter.

"_Very _sorry for the wait, gentlemen," she bid them, relieved that they seemed understanding. The pair of men took their drinks to a nearby table.

Jill took a few seconds to catch her breath.

She was probably going to be out of a job come the new year.

Fuck.

"Hey, Liv," said Gil, rinsing out his tumbler. He spoke to the purple-adorned woman at the edge of the counter. "You heard from Alma at all lately? Haven't seen her in a while."

"_Enh?_" The customer cocked a brow at him, fingers wrapped around her rocks glass.

"The, uh...-" Gil paused, blinking. "Your friend from Zaibatsu?"

"Friend?" Jill poked in, intrigued.

Alma was _Jill's _friend. Presumably best friend. Alma had friends? Friends Jill didn't know about?

"Ohhhh," the woman in purple nodded, making a gesture toward her chest. She took a swig of her drink. "_That _Alma."

"You know her?" asked Jill intently.

The woman gave Jill a once over with scrutiny. Jill observed the noticeable mole below the chick's left eye.

"We both work in the same field," the woman slowly replied. "Sooo, yea. I know her. She's good at what she does." Cellphone in one hand, Brandtini in the other, the woman took a sip of her drink as she typed – all the while keeping her eyes honed on Jill. It was noteworthy to Jill that the woman's Brandtini wasn't served in the usual martini glass, but instead a rocks glass. You know, the kind you put...an Old Fashioned in. Or just some straight brown liquor. She had to have specifically asked for it to be served that way. Odd.

A Brandtini was Alma's favorite drink – had that been why she'd ordered it? Had Alma been the one to direct her to this bar in the first place?

"So you deal in cyber security, too, huh?" prodded Jill. "For Zaibatsu?" That was the company Alma was under.

"Yes. And no." The woman's eyes strayed to her phone. She took another gulp from her glass. Sighing out a cough, she smiled wryly. "I do _not _workfor Zaibatsu."

"Then...-?" Jill caught herself staring and fumbled her hands with wiping down the counter.

The woman sighed at this. But this was _Alma, _Jill couldn't let it rest.

"Who do you work for?" Jill prodded.

The woman's expression soured with impatience. Shooting Jill a dagger glance, she slurped the last of her drink, plunking the empty glass out in front of Gillian. Gillian smiled knowingly, pouring a couple more shots of Brandtini into the flat-bottomed rocks glass.

"This is Jill, by the way," Gil advised. Leaning over a bit, he advised, "I'd just answer her question, or you won't be able to drink in peace."

"Nice to meet you," Jill said with a nod of her head.

With her eyelids slid down disparagingly, the woman's glance shifted from Gillian to Jill, who smiled with a blend of amusement and hesitation.

"Olivia," the woman cited her name, leveling her drink toward her lips. "Charmed." She gulped some down.

"You're a software engineer?" Jill tried yet again. "Like Alma?"

Olivia nodded, unenthused to be forced into this social encounter. That dagger glare had moved back to Gillian, who shrugged playfully. He caught sight of some customers out on the floor who needed something, and off he went.

"So," Jill initiated some more. "Where do you work?"

Olivia rubbed a finger against her eyebrow, avoiding Jill's gaze. This was interesting to Jill – a friend of Alma's, yet so...anti-social? Curious.

"Research Institute. FutureGadget Labs."

Jill's brain buzzed at the name.

"That big science building downtown?" she pondered.

"Yea," Olivia blurted with a certain bitterness. "It's just boring I.T. stuff."

"What...kind of science do they cook up over there?"

Olivia shrugged, a deadpan look about her.

"Don't really know, don't really _care_," she sighed, lifting her glass toward Jill as she swiped at her phone. "It's a living."

"Right..." Jill could understand the feeling. "Another?"

Olivia nodded, so Jill got to work on the order.

_Another Brandtini for this mysterious friend of Alma's. Recovering from her corporate slave work?_

As she refilled the woman's Brandtini, she found herself alarmed. Her chat with Dana just before had made it confusingly apparent how much she _wanted _this job, despite all of her grumblings.

It was the people, really.

"So, um-...How'd you meet Alma?" Jill asked.

"Ah, right. Your friend, enh?"

Jill nodded with a "Mm."

"Don't really remember," Olivia mumbled, starting on her third Brandtini. "Think we met...at a Big Bang Burger? During a lunch break? Or...-" She shrugged dismissively. "It's not like we're bosom buddies, or nothing."

"She isa _bosom_ buddy, all right," Jill joked, snort-giggling a bit.  
Because-...It was was funny, see, 'cause Alma had big...-

Olivia silenced _that _right up with another sharp stare, and Jill cleared her throat, assuming her more professional demeanor in an instant.

"Uh-_huh_," Olivia murmured, lips laced with judgment. Well warranted. It probably didn't make a good first impression to go cracking boob-jokes.

"Hitting it _right _off, are you?" Gil noticed, sliding back into his usual spot. He seemed a bit startled by the tension.

"A real _riot, _this one," Olivia flatly noted. "Thought this place was low-key..."

"It-...It usually _is_," Jill testily defended. "It's just-...With Alma, I...-"

Olivia flicked her wrist at Jill, cringing over her drink.

"Look, lady, your 'bosom buddy' is the one who pointed me to this place. I'll take my drinks from _John _over here, if you don't mind." She tilted her head toward Gil, who sighed, rolling his eyes. "Keep your nose where it belongs – outta my business. Got me?"

Jill was rattled by this. Getting blown off by a customer so swiftly...kind of hurt. She was _good _at her job, this lady was just...-

But Jill nodded, tight-lipped, wide-eyed, hands tucked behind her back.

She and Gil exchanged looks.  
Hers said, _'I was just trying to be friendly.'_  
His said, _'This did not go at all how I expected.'_

"Ah, sorry, Liv," said Gil, saving face. "Jill's...had a rough evening. She can be a little over-eager, but...-"

Olivia sighed, rubbing her temple as she averted her attention to her phone.

"Not doing the best, myself," 'Liv' conceded, "but all I want is some...-" She drizzled out the last bit under her breath, "-fucking _space, _here..."

Jill could feel her expression hardening. Fine. This stuck-up woman wanted to be that way, whatever. One less distraction, right?

She swapped another set of glances with Gillian.  
His said, _'Sorry, Jill, I dunno what's up.'_  
Hers said, _'It is what it is.'_

Jill went about her work, her head rumbling with discontent at that encounter. It made no sense. Jill got _along _with people. And a screw up with a recurring customer would just spell stress over time.

Well. Then again, maybe that _wasn't _going to be such an issue, if things were going the way Dana said they were going...

Before Jill realized, a half hour had passed. Things had slowed down. While Gil was on break, Dorothy had popped in for a bit, but was in-and-out without much fuss. She'd tried to do her usual flirting with a new face – Olivia – but Jill had swiftly talked her out of it. Dorothy was...an interesting sort. Jill was relieved she hadn't stayed for long that night, because Jill's poor brain felt ready to pop, and Dorothy was just the sort to create...awkward social situations that _popped._

The front door swung open, and two young adults stumbled in, mid-argument.

"-so _yes, _we're making a pit stop, _why _is that such a problem? Why does _everything _I want to do have to be _such _a problem to you?"

Yikes. Some chick was pretty pissed off, snarling over her shoulder as she shoved herself in.

"I told her we'd be there in fifteen minutes," came a nasally young man's voice from behind her.

The pair entered, so caught up in their bickering that they ignored how dead they were making the bar with their arguing.

The woman had her hair in a big, bright ponytail. Sort of a sea-foam green color? She was wearing a red jacket that was clearly too big for her. She had a cute little flat nose, wild eyes, and even wilder body language. The fellow with her was wearing a brown beanie, and was a lanky guy with a round face and a wide chin. His eyes were sharp and serious, but his demeanor was a bit lax and indifferent.

"It's a _problem _because we're going to be late," the guy said.

"So _what _if we're late?" balked the gal. "She'll just chastise me, either way."

"You're _stalling, _Alex."

"H-...Hehl-" Jill attempted to greet them from afar.

"Stalling for _what? _And why do you even _care?_"

"Clarissa's extending an olive branch, here. You're being irrational and-…and _unfair_."

"Oh-_ho _my _goddess, _Jonas," balked Alex, her hands flicking out with appall. "Really? You're taking _her _side?"

"I-I'm not-…There's no _sides _here, _you're _the one making sides exist where they don't."

"I _am, _huh?" This 'Alex' person had very expressive hands. "It's _allll _me, I'm the problem, always. She's turned my own family _against _me. Classy stuff, Clarissa, _how _am I not surprised?"

The pair of 'family' members became self-aware of just how crowded the bar was, and thus how much attention they'd drawn to themselves.

"Um," Jill cleared her throat. "Hello. Welcome...to Valhalla. Can I...get you two anything?"

The pair, standing side-by-side, gawked in silence. The bar slowly picked its paces back up.

Dana had stormed out onto the floor, an alert look about her. She paused, lingering by the bar counter's edge and surveying things. Jill shrugged sheepishly. The two fresh customers shrank a little at the Boss' presence.

"Everything...OK out here?" Dana checked.

"Sorry for the, urh, intrusion," Jonas said, taking a step back. "We were...just on our way out, so-"  
"_I'm _staying for a bit," Alex insisted, sitting herself down at one of many empty bar stools. She stared up at Jill, a certain fire in her eyes.

Jonas grumbled, "Alex, you _know _I can't-"  
"You can do whatever you _want_," Alex snapped primly. Elbows on the counter, chin up, she proclaimed, "_I'm _having a drink."

Dana and Jill exchanged nervous smirks.

"Can I...see your ID first, Ma'am?" Jill asked, masking her nervousness in a veil of courtesy.

"Oh, uh...-" Alex fiddled her hands into her large red jacket, pulled out a denim-fashioned wallet, and slid out her ID card. It seemed to check out. Jill had to do some math in her head – the woman was somewhere between 21 and 22. So, it checked out – but barely.

Nodding with a pale expression at Alex's demeanor, Jill handed the card back.

"So, uh, what can I...get you?" Jill wondered, gesturing toward a laminated card with their most popular drinks on it.

"Alex," Jonas huffed, "we don't have _time _for this..."

"_Jonas,_" she huffed back mockingly. "I am _making _time for this."

"What's the occasion?" Dana wondered, casually inserting herself into the conversation – as she often did.

These folks were a little intimidated, clearly, but Alex managed to reply, "_Erh, _just-...About to deal with some family politics..."

"_Ah,_" said Dana, sliding her jaw and nodding. Arms folded, she leaned her side against the bar. "Yep. Sounds like a proper reason to drink."

Jonas flashed Dana an incredulous look as an irate sound puffed out of his nostrils. Alex nodded, flicking up her wrist toward the Chief.

"See, Jonas? It's fine. Calm _down, _already."

"Question is," posed Dana, "what'll get you there tonight?"

Intentionally ignoring Jonas, who hovered behind her, Alex replied, "I...don't _know, _actually – what would you recommend? Ma'am? Er, or...Sir?"

"Ma'am," Dana confirmed, unfazed. She asked coolly, "Context?"

"Huh?" Alex was confused.

"What's the situation?" clarified Dana. "If you want my professional opinion, I'm gonna need to know what kind of mess you're drinking yourself into."

"O-Oh, I, uhh...-" Alex tucked loose hair behind her ears and shrugged. "Just...-"

"She flunked out of college," Jonas sighed, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket.

"_Hey,_" Alex barked, at which Jonas shrugged defensively.

"She's unemployed," Jonas added. "Has _no idea _what to do with her life."

"_**Hey**_**.**"

"We can move _right _on our way whenever you're ready," Jonas countered, to which Alex rolled her head a little. "_You're_ the one stalling."

"Stalling?" Jill asked, picking up where Dana left off.

Reluctantly, Alex's head bobbed, her eyes swayed around, and she tossed her wrist.

"We're...-" Alex cleared her throat. "-supposed to meeting up with someone who's...really _stuck _their nose into my personal life."

"Trying to tell you what's what," Dana surmised.

"Exactly."

"Trying to tell you how to live your own life?" Dana followed up.

"_Yes, _it's _so _annoying." Alex wrangled her fists abreast, her teeth clenching as she growled out the words.

Dana smirked. "Sounds like you need a Gut Punch."

"What?"

Dana nodded her head up to Jill.

Jill prepped her liquids and tumbler.

_A Gut Punch for the rebellious drop-out. You got it, Chief._

Dana wrinkled her face at Jonas. "And, _you_? You look like you could really use a...-" She waggled her hand at his sunken, grumpy look. "-...a _Sunshine _Cloud, or..._something._"

"I'm the designated driver," Jonas groaned.

"So no _alcohol_ in it, then," Dana blew past his gripe. "Look, you _asked _for my opinion...-"

"_She _asked for your opinion," sighed Jonas, palming his face and turning around.

"And she's _clearly _going to do what she wants, here," Dana pointed out. "So, you might as well take _some _of your edge off, too."

"She's right, Jonas," Alex growled. "Look, you're-...You're _weirding _me out with all of your pacing. Can you just...-? Just _sit? _Please? _Five _minutes, we'll be outta here."

Jonas whirled around, still looming impatiently behind Alex.

"We _really _shouldn't be here," Jonas protested.

Jill tossed the right ingredients in – ensuring she was using the aged stuff – and added a nice, healthy serving when she got to the whiskey.

"You're making this take _longer _the more you fuss," Alex grumbled. "Just _sit! _For Link's _sake, _Jonas..."

"I don't _wanna _sit," Jonas whined.

"_Hey_," snarled Olivia, a few booths down. "I will _buy _your drinks if you stop your _bickering._"

Alex's brows lifted high. Leaning on one elbow, she tilted her head toward Jonas, extending an upturned palm.

"Sounds like a good offer to _me_," she said.

Jill took the moment to set down the Gut Punch on a coaster in front of Alex.

"Fine," Jonas gave in, sitting down to Alex's left. "I'll...-" He wriggled his finger up at Jill. "I'll have one of those...Cloudy...whatevers. That _she _said." He flicked his hand over to Dana, who was grinning a little. "But _no _booze in it? I have to drive."

"When did you become such a wet _blanket_?" Alex sighed, cheeks in her palms, elbows to the counter.

_And a Sunshine Cloud for Mr. Grouchy-Pants. Then again, the woman he's with would probably make __**me **__grouchy, too, if I was supposed to be looking out for her..._

"Well. Sounds like we got _that _sorted out," Dana said with a pleasant sigh, watching Jill mix things. She thumbed over her shoulder. "Back there if ya need me." And off she went – before Jill could steal a warm look at her face.

A solitary customer hiding on his own at a table near the door flagged Gillian down for something. With Gil occupied, Jill was surprised when Olivia slid herself over a few seats, next to Alex.

"Thanks for the drinks," Alex said with a wary chuckle. "I, uh-...Sorry if we ruined your evening...-"

Olivia murmured under her breath with a shrug, "Podría haber salido mejor." She took a deep breath, chugged another gulp of her drink, and slapped the empty glass onto the counter. "_But_," she extended her index finger in Alex's face. "I think it's about to _get_ better..." She rubbed her sleek, purple-nail-polished hand over Alex's jacket-padded shoulder.

Jill's insides tumbled along with the drink she was mixing. Something about this lady was really raising red flags for her, but she couldn't describe how, or why. Maybe she was...just butt-hurt over getting complained at...?

"Oh, yea?" Alex replied, a little taken aback. She seemed nervous.  
Yea, _see? _It wasn't just Jill, this lady was...intimidating, in a way. A flirty way that rubbed Jill wrong.

"Since you and your...-" Olivia gestured an arm behind Alex's back, at Jonas, who looked just _so happy _to be there. "-...I mean, _what, _is this your _boyfriend, _or...-?"

"_Ugh, __**no, **_he's-"  
"_Definitely _not, she's-"

The two frowned at each other's reactions, their faces red with embarrassment. Olivia didn't seem surprised – it was more like...a buzzed grin of amusement, like she'd just been trying to rile them up. So she was _that _kind of person. Big shocker.

Jill had finished the Sunshine Cloud – a milky, orange beverage. Folks agreed that it sort of tasted like chocolate milk with caramel mixed in. Maybe some sugar would help calm the guy down.

"Jonas is my _step-brother,_" Alex explained bitterly. She drummed her fingers on her drink, which she hadn't touched with her lips. "And he should mind his own _business._"

"Well, you're my _sister,_" Jonas responded with equal passive-aggression,"So, your safety _is _my business."

"_Step-_sister. First off. Secondly, _how _is-"  
"_Ench, enh-enh, _quit. Stop."  
-_snap snap snap!-_

Olivia snapped her fingers at them, like silencing a noisy pet.

"You sure _act _like siblings, all right," Olivia sighed. Palming her face tiredly, she watched as Gil unassumingly filled up a draft beer for a customer out on the floor. She flagged him down quick enough to insert, "'_Ey, _mind getting me one of those, while you're at it?"

"Sure thing," Gil agreed, pleasantly enough. Sort of to Jill's disdain. "Aaaand _there _ya go, Liv," he said, sliding a big, frothy-topped brew in front of her before filling up another.

"Mi buena amiga," Liv breathed happily at the pint glass, guzzling a couple gulps down. Oh, for crying out-...Even the way she _drank her booze _had this-...this-..._mannerism _to it. Now that Jill was seeing it, it was making her more and more uncomfortable.

Alex was gaping down at her drink with a weird uncertainty. Jonas was sipping at his own beverage, content enough.

Licking her beer-slick lips, Olivia gave Alex a playful shove.

"Well, _go on_, already," Olivia goaded. "I don't wanna see my money go to waste, here..."

Alex's face got a bit bashful and skittish at once, but she sucked down some of the Gut Punch. Coughing and sputtering, pounding at her chest, Alex laughed in spite of herself.

"_Haha, _'at's the way," Olivia encouraged. Sure was suddenly _merry, _wasn't she? Maybe she really did just need some booze in her, first? A happy drunk? She _had _guzzled those Brandtini's down hard. Hadn't she said she'd wanted _space, _though? This was...the opposite of that! What the hell?

Jill couldn't deny that _maybe, _in a way, perhaps, she was feeling frustrated by having such a beautiful woman spurn her attempts at making acquaintances. If it hadn't been for the whirlwind interaction with the Boss just beforehand...-

_Gah. _She was just overthinking things. She needed some cold air. _She _needed 'space.'  
She waited a few moments for Gil to return from his beer delivery, ignoring Olivia and Alex's giggly mumblings.

"I'm taking my break," she bluntly informed Gil, making her way out. He nodded in reply, watching her head off.

Gil went to wiping down the countertops, checking in with the clients as he did so.

"Anything else you folks need for now?"

"No, no, I'm good," said Alex. "Thanks for...putting up with us. We'll be outta your hair shortly."

Alex stared down at her glass, swirling the liquid around in rhythmic circles.

"Alex, right?" said the woman to her left, hunched over her beer.

"Yea," Alex confirmed. She chucked down another gulp of the horrid stuff. _Gulgh.  
_It burned! Holy _Din, _why did people drink shit that _burned _so much?

Jonas added, "Probably...caught our names in all the arguing we were doing, huh?"

"Sure did," said the lady. "So. Clarissa. Who's she?"

Alex felt her insides bubbling with booze and anxiety, now with some extra embarrassment tossed in.

"Oh, _she's_...-" Alex scoffed, taking a third sip of her drink. She savored how hot her face was getting. "Well, she's a pain in my _ass, _is what she is."

"She's a friend of the family," Jonas explained, as if to correct yet another mistake Alex had made.

"Whoever she is, _what_ever she is," the woman cited, "sounds like you are _not _ready to talk with her, unh? That's what the drinking's for..."

"Yyyy**upp**," Alex slowly acknowledged. She finished off her drink and gasping for air. Plopping the glass onto the counter, she cleared her throat some more.

"Feels _good, _enh?" said the woman, giving her a nod of her head.

Alex wiped tears forming in her eyes from the burning liquid but nodded back with a red-faced smile.

The woman extended her slender hand out, and Alex accepted it. They shook.

"Olivia," the lady introduced herself. "I'm guessing you don't come here often."

"No," said Alex, savoring this glorious _human interaction _she'd been craving. "Nah, I don't. Friend told me about this place. _Should _I come here more often?"

"_Agh, _well, I mean...-" Olivia shrugged. "Still kind of new here, myself, but...when the bartenders aren't...fucking _grilling _you for your life's story, it's a nice, quiet place."

"_Ha. _Until _I _show up," Alex joked.

Olivia laughed. At a joke _Alex _had made. Holy shit.  
Even _Jonas _had chuckled a little.

"_Enhh, _well, _you _know," said Olivia vaguely. She shrugged. "It's nice to mix it up a bit. Right?"

"And we should, uh, do that again," Jonas intruded. "Sometime." He got up from his stool. "But...Alex. Come on. In and out, you said."

"_Ughhh, _Jonas, we _just _finished our drinks...which _this _kind stranger is paying for?" She gestured toward Olivia.

Olivia leaned over and asked Alex, "_¿Quieres mas tragos? ¿Chelas?"_

_Alex was admittedly a little rusty on the language – lesser known side of her family, the side she'd become more distant with – but she was pretty sure the woman was asking if Alex wanted more to drink._

_"Ah, n-no, solo uno es...bueno, gracias."_

_"Ooooh," Olivia teased, her purple-painted lips curling into quite the 'O.' "She speaks my _

__language!___"_

_They both chuckled, eyes connected, and Alex hated how much she _

__loved ___that sensation._

Jonas ho-hummed like he always did, and stepped over toward Olivia.

"Look, uh, Ms.? I appreciate your patience with us, here. And thanks for the drinks. But...my _step-_sister here has a lot of...issues she needs to work out? And...-"

"_Ahhhh, _that reminds me," Olivia burst out suddenly. She dug into her fancy, flowing leather jacket and pulled out...a card?

Olivia slid the card across the counter.

"What...-?" Alex perused it.

"You're looking for a job, right?" said Olivia.

Alex read the card.

It had a logo depicting a gear, inside of a...circle, with, like, a ring orbiting it? The ring was also an arrow. Sort of like...a planet? A ringed planet or something...?

The card's main text read:

{ Olivia Calomar}  
{ _Software Engineer _}  
**{ FUTUREGADGET LABS }**

"Soooo, I work at this _research _institute," Olivia explained. "And they are _always _looking for...-" She burped a little. _Whew, _little off the horse, huh? "-...for, like, participants? For research..._studies._" She nearly spilled her beer as she went to drink more. "You know. Like...testing how the human _brain _works? Tracking how our fucking _eyeballs _follow things? There's _always _some big company paying us for market research, soooo...-" She shrugged. Sipped some more beer. Wiggled her brows at Alex.

"Aaaand it'd be simple enough," Alex caught on. "I've, uh...Yea, I've...done something similar before."

"**¿**Neta?"

"Si. Um, so, it's sort of like...donating blood? Almost?"

"Not _even_," Olivia assured. "They run some tests, you wait a while...you come _back, _run some more tests. Some neuro-science shit. _I _don't know, I just keep their fucking firewalls in tact, but...-"

Jonas was tugging at Alex's jacket, which was starting to slide off. She shuffled it back over her shoulders and tucked the card into her wallet.

"Sounds like easy money," Alex cited. She recollected her previous experiences with such things. Back when she needed..._you _know...some extra cash? For _things?_

"Easiest money you could ever make," said Olivia.

"And what's the _catch_?" Jonas skeptically wondered.

"Uh, _well, _the _catch_ is that you're letting them stick tubes and wires all over you, and...fucking poke around at your _brain _for a while."

"No," Alex said, turning to her step-brother. "No, she's right, Jonas. It's as simple as it sounds. You spend an hour letting them study you, you get a check, boom, done."

"Doesn't exactly sound like a steady wage," Jonas critiqued.

"Well. _No_," Alex conceded. "But-...But it's a _start. _It's better than _nothing_, which is _all _I have fucking found on the job market. And – _hey – _it could buy me some time looking for a real job."

"OK, all right, you made your point," Jonas shrugged with a deep breath. "Now, come _on, _we _really _need to head out. Clarissa is _lighting _up my phone, she is _pissed._"

"_Agh, _but...-" _Why _did Jonas have to constantly _muck up _any good thing she found?

Olivia waved at them to go on their way.

"_Ahhh, _it's fine," Olivia assured. "I been coming here _all _the time. You got some kinda _shit _to deal with, you go. And, look, hey – _no _pressure with that thing I said. It's _weird, _yea. But it _is _easy money, trust me. Now, _goooo _on, _gettt _outta here. Face your demons, n' all that..."

Alex's heart tugged with that all-too-familiar ache. Meeting someone she felt _any _kind of connection with, just to get yanked away. Well, she was sick of letting those moments stay as just moments.

"Hey, uh...-" Alex flashed the card to Olivia as she rose from her seat. "This number on here...is that you?"

"_Enhh, _it's reception," Olivia shrugged. "I don't...really like putting my contact info on there, so...-"

Alex pulled out her cell phone hastily.

"Alex," Jonas groaned, halfway to the door.

"Here," Alex said, presenting her phone to the woman. Her new acquaintance. "Can I-...Can you give me your number? _Ihhhn _case I have...any questions, or-...or just wanna...see if you're _here, _and...-"

Olivia giggled, accepting Alex's phone. Her thumbs were _insane, _the way they flicked and tapped and swiped around.

_Fffffuckkk _yes, a _number? _Alex was getting a hot chick's _number.  
_Guys? Oh, they were _easy _to get numbers from. But _girls? _Fucking _Farore _was it difficult.  
You know, not that-...Alex wasn't _expecting _anything from this, it was just-...  
It just felt good, OK?

"Ha, _whoops~_" Olivia sighed, her fingers continuing to fly about. "Messed up, there, lemme...-" She kept at it.

"Little drunk, there?" Alex teased, reminding herself that the woman had been on some hard liquor before they'd arrived – she'd seen it.

Olivia nodded, her head bobbing around sleepily as her fingers kept swiping and tapping.

"Ohh, wait-wait, lemme just...-" Olivia was finagling something extra, it sounded like.

Jonas made another fuss, but Alex nudged him away.

"Aaaand there you go," said Olivia at last, handing the phone back with a wink. "Got my number in there, _plus_? I signed you up for texts when we get new studies we need participants for..." She pounded at her chest a bit, burped quietly, and sighed pleasantly. "Anyway."

Jonas was practically dragging Alex off as she was surveying her contacts list to confirm – yup. New number. She'd put her name down as 'Liv.'

Oh, Alex was trying to 'live,' all right.

"Was nice meeting you, Alex," Olivia bade them, wriggling her fingers in a coy wave. "Next time you show up, we gonna get loud up in here, _unh?_"

"Y-yea, you bet!" _hohhhh fuck she is- her __**eyes, **__though? The way she's looking at me? What?_

"Now, you go show this _Clarissa _what's up, _engh? _¡Órale! ¡Luego, luego!"

"Ha! B-...¡Buenas noches, Olivia!"

"¡Buenas noches, Alex!"_  
._

_._

_._

_.  
__Whew._

Rubbing at her heavy eyelids as she watched the easily distracted girl get yanked off by her _step-_brother, Olivia spun round in her stool. She paused, taking a deep breath. She hopped up from her seat, and slowly sauntered her way back to her usual spot, sliding her half-empty pint across the bar as she did so.

She sat back down in- _whoop. _Heh. Gotten a little more tipsy than she'd _planned, _but she was _not _complaining. Had really helped loosen her up for that social encounter.

"Wow," observed Gillian. "I've never seen you get along so well with someone. Even when you and Alma came in that first time, it was like you weren't...even that _friendly._"

"Ehhh," Olivia shrugged with an intentionally sheepish smile. She sniffed, dusting off her nose as she tended to her beer. "Alma's more...of an _associate _than a friend. She, uh-...That girl, she seems fun. Just needs to loosen _up _a little."

"Aaaand _you're _gonna show her how," Gillian said with smarm.

"_I _never said _that_..." Olivia dismissed playfully.

"The way you were leading her on?" Gillian observed, topping her beer off. "I could tell you sure were looking for _something_..."

"Heh." Olivia smiled coyly. "Well. _Mmmmaybe _I was," she confessed, revealing a glint in her eye to Gil.

"_Pff. _You scare me sometimes, Liv," Gil chuckled. "I didn't take you for a cougar..."

"You mean a leopard?"

"Do I?"

"_Ha. _No, you didn't mean _any _o' _that _shit, 'cuz I ain't _that _old."

Gil contained a laugh.

"Yes, _Ma'am,_" he teased, barely holding his chuckle in. "I stand corrected."

"_Puh, _you little...-" Olivia shook her head at his taunting. Now _she _was the one getting riled up. "_That's _it," she said, with a snap of her finger, "just me and my beer, no need for you for another hour."

"Yea, yea," Gil eased. "You know where to find me if you need me."

He went to greet his female counterpart as she crawled her nosey self back into the building.

Still, Liv had to play it cool. Bartenders like these folks could be _quite _the valuable asset, as that very evening had demonstrated. Olivia knew that Jill Stingray – age 27, half-French, avid-smoker, bisexual, Bachelor's Degree – was just an awkward bundle of mental health issues trying to get by. She _knew _full well that her associate was Jill's closest customer relation. Olivia's rough treatment of the bartender wasn't personal.

But Olivia had shit that needed to get done.  
And that was far easier when she had people _working _for her, especially when they didn't realize it.

And by avoiding her while she was at Valhalla, Jill was doing Liv a great service.

Olivia pulled out her phone to send some messages.

[ **Beyonder** ]  
[ v. 8.3.7 ]

-( To: **xX-Alice_Rabbit-Xx** )  
-( Sorry. Me and your pal didn't hit off too well. )  
-( You sure she doesn't just like you for your looks? )

( From: **xX-Alice_Rabbit-Xx **)-  
( Whaaaat? )-  
( Don't you go harassing my friend, now. )-  
( She's a good friend. I'd prefer to keep her. )-  
( I really DO like her. Just not in THAT way. )-  
( Which is the whole point! )-  
( Do you KNOW how hard it is for a woman like me )-  
( to make friends with someone who really understands her? )-  
( And ISN'T just trying to get in her pants? )-

-( Heh. Can't say I do. )  
-( But don't worry. )  
-( I'll leave her be. )

( You'd better! =P )-

Olivia changed gears to a different chat.

-( To: **The_Unseeing_Sister** )  
-( Got to say, I don't get what you're seeing, here. )  
-( But, hey, that's why you're on point, not me. )  
-( I did my part. )  
-( Your turn. )  
-( Don't make me regret this. )  
-( I don't want another Valkyrie on our hands... )

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

( From: **La_Sombra** )-  
( Got to say, I don't get what you're seeing, here. )-  
( But, hey, that's why you're on point, not me. )-  
( I did my part. )-  
( Your turn. )-  
( Don't make me regret this. )-  
( I don't want another Valkyrie on our hands... )-

-( To: **La_Sombra** )  
-( Indeed, it looks as though one of those failures of yours is ready for a lesson in pain. )  
-( Something I will tend to when I return. )  
-( I admit, I have a litany of reservations about this new one. )  
-( But, let us bring her forth. )  
-( You asked for someone worthy. )  
-( And, reservations or no, I assure you, )  
-( she is worthy. )  
-( Or rather, she will be, in time. )

**\/\/+()+X+()+/\/\**

_Isabelle originates from __**Animal Crossing **__(Nintendo)__**  
**__Asgore Dreemurr originates from __**Undertale **__(toby fox)__**  
**__Beatrice Santello originates from __**Night in the Woods **__(Infinite Fall)  
Rachel originates from __**Life is Strange **__(DontNod, characterized by Deck Nine)__**  
**__Dana and Alma originate from __**VA-11 HALL-A **__(Sukeban Games)  
Jonas and Clarissa originate from __**Oxenfree **__(Night School Games)_


	4. Episode 4

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)  
**Episode 4**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"I have distressing news," said their lead guitarist, gawking at his phone.

"Is the news that we _suck?_" posed the drummer, quite dryly. She flatly jested,"Because I don't think I can take it."

"You _do _suck!" Mae taunted, accentuating their insult with a sharp strum of their bass – unplugged. "Now it's our turn. _Get off the stage._"

The drummer flipped Mae the bird, and Mae flipped it right back – their bassist defiantly strummed his instrument in retaliation, its volume much exceeding Mae's. Ya know. Because speakers.

With an unamused frown shot toward Mae, the guitarist of the opposing band clarified to his crew what he was on about, flashing his phone in their faces as he paced by them.

"Off the Hook are doing a secret show tomorrow night at The Downside and _Pearl _asked us to _open _for them."

"I hate you," blurted their bassist, a shaggy-haired chimp of a boy. Man? Eh. Somewhere inbetween.

The guitarist retorted eloquently, "A gig is **a gig** is _a gig_ is a..._**gig**_."

"_Hey!_" Mae interjected, starting to unplug the rivaling group's equipment. "Your time's _up, _it's our turn! Now _git_-!" They tripped up over some cabling, but were caught by the arm just before they lost balance.

It was a familiar grip – Bea's grip.

Everything felt like it stopped in that moment, in the worst and best kinds of ways.

Beatrice's smoldering look of dry disappointment mixed with embers of sentimentality – it was about as Mae remembered it. Hot. Erh, well, more like...sprinkles of hot? Over a dusty ash?

The sound of the other band's guitarist and bassist bickering faded into Mae's consciousness as they regained their footing.

"...for the _band? _For the **band?** For th-"  
"Can't we do our o-"  
"**For the **_**band**_**?!**"  
"Can't we do our _own _secret shows?"

The red-head drummer flatly snarked, "_All _our shows are secret shows."

"Oh, we're _doin' _it!" growled their lead, so passionate about this matter that he whipped his phone against the wooden stage floor. It bounced a bit, and the sound was oddly deafening to everyone in the auditorium.

A dead beat. Angus coughed.

"_Dude,_" Gregg blurted, his single syllable echoing through the hall.

Looking worn out and frazzled, all the more so from abusing his own phone, the lead of the rival band grumpily stomped over to his device. He picked it up, grimacing at its freshly splintered screen.

"An omen," hissed the bassist. "The rock goddesses _disavow _you, Stephen. They disavow you and your conspiring with _rap-slash-pop-funk __**heathens**__._"

"_Are _they rap-slash-pop-funk?" the drummer murmured critically.

"Off the Hook?" the guitarist mumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket. He paused, shrugged, and went about locking up his guitar case. "No idea."

Mae glanced at her compatriots and they all uncertainly shook their heads, shrugged, etcetra.

No one really knew what genre Off the Hook fell under. They were like a genre unto themselves. Mae guessed the name was appropriate, then.

The bassist that was _not _Mae was still _plucking _at his ugly instrument which was _totally _not as cool as Mae's, like, if they were axes then _that _loser's was a dull wood-chopping axe all chipped to hell and Mae's was, like, a rune-carved, frost-edged, gold-imbued bad-ass axe. With, like, vikings, and shit.

"They're just popular because _one _of them comes from a rich family," the bassist bitterly pouted.

"Scott," deadpanned the drummer. "You are _not _gonna make this weird again."

"Yea, man," grumbled the band's lead, accepting a wad of rolled up cord from Bea and stuffing it in a case. "Whatever happened between you and Pearl, dude? It happened. It's done. We're all adults here, come on."

"What, uh...-" Now Mae was curious. Unplugging Scott's bass, she shoved a tangle of cord in his face, asking, "What happened between you and Pearl? Dude?"

"Nothing," he growled. A mile a minute: "Everything. All the things. First base. I don't know. Half a base. No. Maybe. Base and half? She's _evil_. Pure evil. We were in high school."

"_Someone _got dumped," blurted the drummer. "And then _someone _carried a bitter as fuck _grudge _about it for the past five years. Because _someone _is a childish tool."

"_Yes, _Kim," hissed Scott. "_Thank you, _Kim..."

"Doesn't _feel _so good, does it?" Kim taunted, slamming her foot against the drum pedal.

**-pomp**-

"Look," said the guitarist (Steve? Or something?). He was finagling with his guitar. "You and _Kim _got past...-" He squinted at one of them, then the other. "-...whatever _that _was. Here we are. Still a band. All right? You can deal with a _single _gig."

"Seems like the mature thing to do," piped up Angus, helping the guitarist – what was his name, again? "Your ex is likely extending a gesture of good-faith. Maybe even an act of apology?"

Scott countered, "You didn't catch the part when I said she was _evil, _did you?"

"Um...-" Angus scratched at his forehead a bit. "I don't really...buy into the belief that people are 'evil' or 'good.' It's fairly unhelpful and. So." Angus trailed off with a shrug.

"Real philosopher, there," Kim punted some more sarcasm.

"Well, it _was _one of my favorite subjects in-"  
Gregg swooped over, rubbing Angus' back, and whispered something into his ear.  
"-...ah."  
Gregg, smiling warmly, gave Angus a cheerful slap on the back.  
"Ow."  
"Oh, sorry, Babe."

"Uh," Mae blurted, watching the stoic-faced drummer just _sitting there. _"Maybe instead of bein' a dick to my friend, and gossiping over whatever dumb love life history, ya'll could, like, _clean up yer shit,_ or...-? I mean, ya need _help, _or...-?"

"We got it," grunted Kim. Not moving at all.

Mae flatly stated, "'Cuz you're running like ten minutes late already."

"Yup," the red-head huffed. Still not moving.

"Eating away our time slot, here." Mae tapped at their wrist. Then, realizing they were holding their phone, rotated their hand around and tapped at their phone, instead.

"Uh-huh." This drummer, man!

"Sorta...rude," Mae pointed out irritably.

"Sure." Now the little ginger bitch was _smiling _all spiteful and crap.

"Mae." It was Bea, hovering over their shoulder. "She's just fucking with you at this rate, calm down."

Mae grumbled quietly, "They're dicking around, it's taking away _our _practice time."

"It's Sex Bob-Omb, Mae. Dicking around is what they _do. _It's whatever."

"It's not OK," Mae protested.

"You seem _really _keen on practice today," observed Angus.

"Uh, _yea?_" Mae said, thrusting out their arms. "Since _when _was the last time we got the whole band together?" Mae swatted the back of their hand against Bea's arm. Bea took it without flinching, good girl. Mae continued to swat as they spoke. "I mean, this is a _full house, _a full Weird Autumn house, we gotta take advantage of every minute of it."

"OK, OK," Bea sighed, nudging Mae's hands off her. "So, let's catch up a bit while these ass-hats pack up." She pulled out a box of cigs like a boss – from her coat's boob pocket, no less (yea, yea, 'breast pocket', but c'mon, Mae savored any excuse to pull out the word 'boob,' even if it meant–)

Oh, whoops. Her chums were all heading off outside, leaving Mae behind with these degenerate losers.

_WOMP WOMP _it was a metaphor for Mae's life, rite?  
Well, sort of, it was. Frickin' A.

Anyway.  
Mae followed them outside.

_Blech. _Fuckin' cold...  
Mae'd forgotten their coat. Again.  
Part of them wanted to somehow goad Beatrice into lending _her _coat.  
Partially to be less cold. But also partially for the insinuating undertones.  
But boy oh boy would _that _shit not fly.

Pulling up from the rear, though, Mae couldn't help but admire _Bea's _rear – just for a sec, ya know? Mae had really missed that rear. It was a nice rear. Bubble-shaped. Gregg's was good, too, in a very different way, but that rear was like, reg rear. Regular rear. Everyday rear. Bea's, now, it had been _months _since-  
"Hey."

Bea was giving Mae a weird. Look. _fuck shit shit play it cool_

Mae jammed their hands into their pockets, 'cuz that was pretty much the only thing they _could _do to warm up at all, and nodded their chin up, approaching them.

Mae had to not make this weird not make this weird not make this  
_ugh _but Bea's face was still so _good._

_SHIT _

was Mae horny WHY were they horny why had they not thought to correct this _before _coming to the whole thing with the stuff and the person who they had used to

**LAUGHTER laughing **_**there was laughing now  
**_"Hahahaha..._ahhhhh_...-" Mae sighed out her breath.

Bea was _smiling, _fffffucking **good, **right? Good, that was good, great. Even.

"Sweet, sweet revenge," Bea mused, about whatever they had just been laughing at.

"Like ice cream," Mae spat.

"Huh?"

"Because it's best served cold. But it's also sweet, sweet. So...-" Mae shrugged. Gregg was nodding. "Like ice cream."

"...Huh. Yea. All right," Bea agreed. She took a hit of her cigarette.

"So, _BEE-BEE_," Mae blurted, giving Beatrice a good ol' wallop on the arm. Actually, a wimpy little swat. 'Cuz Mae was outta shape. "What's the _sitch _with you lately, huh?"

"Yea, man," chirped in Gregg, "Haven't seen you in a minute."

"How's your father?" Angus wondered.

Bea's eyes twitched with the uncomfies and she shook her head slightly.

"_Enhhh, _everything's...good enough, over in Bea Town, here. Don't worry about my shit. I want to know what _you _guys are all up to."

Mae quick-fired, "Gregg an' me are still at the Snack Falcon, Angus got a raise at his cubicle job, aaaand I got a new roommate."

A quiet floated across them. A motorcycle's growl hummed in the distance, sputtering to a stop a couple blocks away.

Bea puffed out some smoke, wordless for another sec.

She finally mused, "Sounds like we're all living the fucking _life._"

Gregg brought up, "Heard from ol' Chlo-Bear that she popped into your shop today?"

Bea shrugged, then nodded.

"She's why you showed up, huh?" Mae recalled from the text they'd received. "And how's _she _doing?"

"Not much better than any of us," muttered Bea, speaking while her lips kept her cigarette held up. _Damn, _so hot. Mae _remembered _how hot Bea was but like they'd FORGOTTON how hot Bea was. Fuck.

"Ah, right," said Angus, finding his way into the conversation. "What about her wife? Has anyone heard from her lately?"

"Max-a-roni?" murmured Gregg, scratching behind his ear. A moment of thought and then he shrugged. "Nah. Nope."

Bea shrugged as well, drizzling smoke out through her nostrils.

The motorcycle in the distance choked and coughed up again, heading their way.

"Uh," Mae rubbed their pudgy belly a little. "Well, like, Alex is going to lunch with her tomorrow, I guess?"

"Alex?" murmured Bea.

"New roomie," Mae clarified. Bea's brows lightly lifted, her lips just barely open as her chin tilted a little fffffffFUCK see? Sexy.

"Wait, wait, really?" Angus seemed a bit offended. "Max is actually socializing with Alex? I've...been trying to get in touch with Max all month, and she hasn't responded..."

Mae belt out a laugh.

"Dude," they said with a small head shake. "Alex has been _per_-sis-**tant.** Guess she finally broke down that hermit's door."

"Mm," Angus hummed, rubbing at his round jawline with contemplation. "I _was _trying to talk with her about work, maybe that...warded her off?"

"_Pff,_" laughed Gregg, giving his boyfriend a rub on the back. "Would prolly ward _me _off, Babe. I mean," he gestured a wrist at the lot of them. "_any _of us these days, right?"

Bea's eyelids fluttered unpleasantly and she nodded in concession. Mae, wide-eyed, also bobbed their head up and down.

That motorcycle from before? It slowed its roll right in front of them, parking on the curb. Two peeps were riding the thing, with the passenger being a _hulking _dude with the widest shoulders you'd ever seen, and the driver being one lean, mean, buff machine of a woman. **Aha. **Mae knew these two, fershur.

After kicking her cycle's stand out, the driver thrust up both biker-gloved hands, giving the group on the stairs some killer bull-horn gestures, throwing her head around. She made some kind of shout but under her full-on helmet it was a muffled something or other. _Pff. _The goofy lunatic. Mae loved it.

The larger of the pair had to fumble with his helmet, which was maybe a tad smallish for his tad biggish skull.

"NYEH-...!" he began, but his helmet got stuck halfway off his head.

"NG-...!" started up the driver, having removed her helmet, but she hung it on her handlebar to assist with the helmet-removal process for her bud.

Between the two of them, the helmet was popped off and rolled down the curb. After staring at it for a second, the two remembered their audience.

They thrust their beefy arms up, eyes glimmering with hype, and yelled.

"NYEH-HEH-**HEH!**"  
"**NGAHHH!**"

The group waved at them, altogether unsure of what to say in the face of being outclassed so effortlessly. The big dude was dressed in a colorful tanktop with the phrase {Cool Dude} unevenly printed on it, as well as some huge kicks with huge socks to match, and shorts so wide Mae's whole body could probably fit in one leg. Had a very slim, buzzed haircut on his donkin' head, and the biggest grin Mae knew of. Literally, like, physically, guy's mouth was enormous. And also smiling all the time. That was Papyrus. Guy was a RIOT to follow on Instapix.

The smaller dude was clad in a tight-ass leather jacket with a navy-blue shirt underneath, and some kinda dark red...scarf? Scarf-like entity? Around her neck? Faded gray jeans, some killer goth boots (studded~), and her hair was styled into a ponytail with some serious side-bang swooping down the front, covering her left eye. Her hair was dyed a deep red – a nice choice, if Mae said so themself. And as if she _needed _it, but her ears were dudded up with some neat rings. This bad-ass chick was Undyne – she'd lost an eye at some point, kept it patched over and all that. Lotta rumors but all Mae knew was it had to have been lost doing one of the epic things Undyne was known for doing. She'd saved some disabled kid from getting run over one time, made the news. Uhhh stopped some shootout at the mall some other time? Other stuff. Security guard, by the way. Both of them – at the mall. So, all of the bad-ass of being a cop without any of the red tape. Yellow tape? Eh.

Oh, yea! And they were in a band.

Rolling his tongue on the first 'r,' the big dude in the backseat declared, "The Rrrrr_oyal _Guard has ARRIVED!"

Mae was slapping Bea on the rib, whispering with giddy glee, "ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod"

"We're here!" bellowed the surprisingly deep, rusty-edged voice of Undyne. "We're queer! We're...ready to-"  
"_Are _we?" blurted Papyrus, palming his own massive chest. "Do I count?"  
"I mean," grumbled Undyne uncertainly, shrugging her meaty shoulders up and down a bit. After a pause, she gave him a firm pat on the pec, pointed at him keenly with the other hand, and said quietly, _"Yea, _you count! You are fucking _valid, _Bro."  
"Very well," Pap decided, his eyes narrowing and sliding to one side. "I _do _feel fairly validated. Carry on."

"We're HERE!" Undyne burst out, pumping her fists up again.  
"WE'RE QUEER!" Papyrus huffed. "...apparently!"  
"We're ready to...-" Undyne paused. Froze right the hell up, bug-eyed at the group gawking at her. Looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel from the confusion. "Uh. _You _guys aren't Off the Hook..."

"We are..._not_," Angus confirmed, trying to assess these two.

Mae wormed in, "Buuuuut _YA'LL_ are fucking off. the. **Hook!**"

"WE are not," Papyrus corrected, giant fists on his giant hips. "We are...-" He narrowed his eyes. "The Rrrrrroyal Guard."

"Weeeeee," Gregg chimed in, "Are off the _mutha-fuckin' __**chain, tho!**_"

Giving Mae an excited grin, Gregg nodded at them, who nodded back – they pounded chests and slapped two high fives. First one didn't stick quite right.

"Sounds like a long name," Undyne observed. "And hard to, like...advertise."

Bea stepped down the stairs – _nooooo _Bee-Bee DAFUQ is you doing? – nonchalant as hell, still holding her half-smoked cig in her lips.

"I'm Beatrice," she greeted, sticking out a BOLD hand at Undyne. Tilting her head, she cited, "We're a band called Weird Autumn. _You're _a band called...The Royal Guard?"

Undyne, confused, wiped her front bang to the side, revealing her sick eye-patch – black patch, with a purple skull on it, neat – and shook Bea's hand.

"Yea," Undyne replied, a little surprised at Bea strolling right on up to her. Mae could tell their handshake got a little intense, 'cuz Bea's eyes opened wider than usual for a sec. "Name's Undyne."

"And **I **am the **Grrrreat Papyrus**!"

Bea cocked a brow at him. "...Yea. Uh."

Gregg hissed into Mae's ear, "_what is she doing just rollin' UP ON THEM like that?_"  
To which Mae hissed quietly back, "_RITE?_"

Bea and Undyne's handshake broke off, and Undyne shoved off of her bike, her jacket brushing up right against Bea as she did so.

"I, uh, remember you," Beatrice said, even _her _cool demeanor shrinking just a little. She took another puff of her cigarette, blowing the smoke to one the side. "Lead guitar, right?"

"Hell _yea_," Undyne said with a beaming smile. "Inspiration to degenerates the town over."

OK OK OK, soooo yea, Beatrice was a total catch, total bae, total bad-ass, literally Mae's previous bae, hopefully once-again bae.

But _Undyne? _Hooooo. 'Undyne the Undying,' her stage name, more like...'Undyne the...Underwear-Removing.' Or, or, 'Undyne the Underpants-Exploding.' Orrrrr 'Undyne the Top-'cause-you're-always-UNDer-her' _orrrrrr _OK, yea, you got it. Something **Un**appropriate. She was still indie, sure, but _Mae _knew in their heart of hearts that Undyne was destined for some great things. They'd performed in the same set once before, some artsy charity thing for old people or whatever, but Mae felt like Weird Autumn was out of its league when put beside The Royal Guard.

Watching Undyne re-cover her eye-patch with swoopy-bang, Bea explained dryly, "Sorry to disappoint, but the _band _called Off the Hook isn't here."

Papyrus was scooping up the helmet they'd dropped. Undyne was rubbing at her chin, staring at the lot of youths on the stairs. Mae was worried they'd piss themselves when those sharp eyes passed over them.

"Well, shit," Undyne sighed, her brows furrowing. "How'd we miss _that_?"

Daintily placing the second helmet on the other handlebar, Papyrus shrugged, pondering aloud, "PERHAPS you misread the text."

"Mm." Undyne glanced around. "Maybe," she admitted, her face boiling up with..._thought._

Huh. Mae didn't find her so hot when she tried to put on this, like, _thinking _face. Made it look like she was gonna grind her own teeth into dust, or her head was gonna burst, or something.

Well. That was OK. Mae knew a fellow, erh, dimmer-bulb when they saw one. See? This was why Undyne was married to the chick she was married to. This was why Chloe was married to Max. This was why Mae was gonna-probably-hopefully get married to Bea some day. Right? Like ketchup and mustard, PB and J. Just went well together, balanced it out, Ying and Yang, or whatever.

Undyne recalled, "Didn't we play a gig together uptown back in the summer?"

"We, _uh, __**Yupp!**_" Mae squawked, shakily finding their way down the front steps. "Yeaaa, we did. Uh-huh." They shoved out their hand at Undyne, oozing but trying to not ooze _too _bad, "We love your shit, you guys are cool, I like you, you're my-"  
"So cool!" Gregg agreed, grabbing Mae's shoulders and squeezing them. SAVIOR.

"Ha." Undyne grabbed Mae's hand, snapped her fingers at Mae and smirked – _Mae would snapshot that image and staple it to the wall of her inner sanctum. _"We're still rough n' tumble, ya know?"

"She's the rough!" Papyrus blurted. "_I'm_ the tumble!"

Undyne snort-laughed – _OH GOD SHE WAS A SNORT-LAUGHER? _– and added, "_Psshyeah, _and Sans is the 'womp-womp' noise!"

Papyrus was grinning with a weirdly serious look, concluding, "And Bloo Bloo must be the quiet moment of contemplation _afterward!_"

Undyne's snickering popped out another snort, and she slapped herself in the thigh, while Papyrus was...making a weird laugh Mae did not know how to explain.

None of this made any sense to Mae, and they were loving every second of it.

"Where _is _the rest of your band?" Angus asked.

"_Hahhhh_," Undyne sighed, recovering from her laughter. "Well! Not _here, _apparently. Not that it'd be a surprise with Sans, but Napsta would've been an early worm – not that you'd even know they were here, _heh_. But I'm guessing no one _else_ is here?"

"There _is_ another band inside," Bea pointed out. "They just mentioned Off the Hook. Maybe you should...-" She shrugged, glancing off. "-...I dunno, ask _them_?"

Undyne shot Bea a side-eye but nodded.

"Maybe we _should _you-dunno ask them...Eh, Paps?" Undyne pounded her fist into Papyrus' enormous bicep. Dude didn't even flinch. She unhooked a guitar case that was attached to the back of her bike and looped it around her shoulder.

Papyrus agreed, "Sounds like a reasonable you-dunno idea." He retrieved a single microphone and a tambourine from a pouch attached to the bike's opposite side.

The two of them headed in, and Mae nearly tailgated Undyne before Bea stopped her.

"_Dude,_" Bea whispered into her ear. "Don't be such a _spazz, _play it cool."

"But it'ssssss _Undyne_," Mae winced, flickering their eyelids at Bea with hands clasped against their chest.

"Look, don't touch," Bea primly advised.

Mae panted with disbelief. "_YOU touched...!_" they seethed quietly.

Bea smirked and laughed through her nose.

"I _did_," she bragged in her calm, smug little way, sticking out her tongue for a split second before pulling it back in.  
**  
**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Grillby's was a busy place that afternoon, much to Max's benefit. Crowds made her job easier. Safer, at the least.

Max leveled her phone in front of her, swiping to her camera function – inner lens, zooming in toward the man at the bar behind her. She started tapping the button to grab some pictures over her shoulder. Of course, she couldn't get a look at his face. Ugh. Plus, it was _not_ her preferred resolution, but...she felt certain it was her guy, based on who he'd entered with, and the chumminess he had with the bartender. If he'd only just turn to-

"_Psh,_" Alex scoffed playfully. "I'd _heard _you were quite the selfie prodigy, but you _really _get into it, don't you?"

"Eh, w-well, I mean...-" Max shrugged. "It's still fun to do selfies once in a while, right?" She fussed with her bangs a bit, then dusted her cheekbone with her fingertip. She was wearing her freckles proudly that day, but the lack of makeup made the shadows under her eye look _terrible._ She used her phone as a mirror but quickly shifted gears, eager to focus on her target.

"_Agh,_" she grunted, keeping up her facade. "I, uh, I look like a _zombie. Pff._"

And then, someone else sidled up next to her subject at the bar in front of the joint. Someone who, even from behind, Max couldn't help but do a double take at.

A sweeping, shining head of golden hair, straight and serene, running down past her shoulders. Red and black plaid shirt with bleached, tight jeans, and a black denim jacket, unzipped and cut a bit short. Even from the side, the woman's model-like features caught Max off guard. She kept taking pictures, then switched to video, trying to zoom in.

It _couldn't _be...right?

A single earring – left ear – bright blue feather.

Fuck.

"Well, _yea, _with an expression like _that,_" teased Alex, "you sure _do _look like a zombie..."

Max cleared her throat, prying her phone out of position to review her shots.

"Y-Yea," Max agreed with a bashful chuckle in spite of herself. "Oh, _yikes_...I sure do, huh?"

But she was barely in the photos she'd taken. What had her preoccupied was the blonde woman who had just approached her subject.

Reviewing her admittedly fuzzy photos, Max wasn't entirely sure. It had _been _a while, after all.

But _damn, _if it didn't look like Rachel Amber – Chloe's ex, and the source of...well, _everything_ that had led Max to where she currently was. Rachel had become quite the sore subject around Chloe, but in fact, Max had yet to meet the woman in person. All of that stuff between Chloe and Rachel had gone down in the interim when Max had been away during high school. By the time Max had come back to Arcadia for college, Rachel had gone missing – turned out, she had disappeared to dodge out of some trouble she'd gotten herself into. Part of which? She'd been cheating on Chloe with some mutual friend of theirs: Frank Bowers. Or, for all Max knew, the other way around. Not her business, though she had always been curious.

But from the way Chloe had talked about it, Rachel had robbed them both, then left town. There hadn't been much of a trail for Max to follow. She had tried to skiptrace Ms. Amber's whereabouts way back when she'd gone missing – it had been the catalyst that had brought her and Chloe back into each other's lives, and what had tumbled Max down from the future path of 'photography' to one of 'investigation.' But what little Max had been able to dredge up had indeed pointed to the woman having fled Arcadia years back – about a decade ago.

Why go through so much trouble to get out of Arcadia, only to return to it, years later? Back to a place where she had such a reputation, so many targets on her back? And why was she talking with Max's subject? What connection could she have to what was going on with Los Muertos? And yet, somehow Max wasn't all that surprised, in a way.

After all, Rachel sounded like the sort who attracted trouble, and lots of it.

Across the restaurant, at the bar, the pudgy man in the blue hoodie with the white-furred collar was trying to enjoy his lunch.

But Sans' meal was being interrupted by this pushy lady yapping about something or other.

Frankly, he'd tuned her out, his attention wandering to a concert playing on the flatscreen suspended over the bar's counter. The vocalist sure was something.

_[ " I hear you buzzing, a fly on the wall  
In through the window and up through the hall  
Flying in circles, just trying to land  
I see you hurting, I do what I can " ]__  
_

Cheek in his palm, elbow to the counter, his beer bottle in the other hand...  
Sans took a few gulps as he soaked the singer's voice in._  
_

_[ " But I won't save you  
I won't save you " ]_

"**Hey.**"

The golden-haired woman who'd been blabbing off at Sans slapped her palm firmly against the counter top of the bar, leaning her head over sideways, trying to get inbetween his gaze and the flatscreen. Her threatening glare had a shiny gold curtain backdrop. Lady probably put more effort into her _hair _than Sans put into an entire day. She flicked that golden curtain, and hazel eyes attempted to pierce through Sans' glass lenses. But she might as well have been staring through empty eye sockets with how little he cared.

"Are you _listening _to me?" she hissed beneath the restaurant's chattering.

Sans shrugged.  
He pulled a pickle slice out from his hamburger and ate it.

"Because if you're _not,_" she went on, "we're going to have a _problem._"

Who was this punk, anyway? And when would she leave?  
Guy was trying to enjoy his lunch, here.

She spoke with cold syllables, her sentence tipped sharp, like an icicle.

"And we are _not _going to have a _problem...are _we?"

Sans avoided her pristine doll-face – which, frankly, didn't do much for him. It was such effort just to _look _at.

"a problem, huh?" Sans murmured with a yawn. He scratched at the blob of of his belly and took a sip of his beer. "yea. don't like those much. lotta hassle."

"Oh, yea? Good. So you're going to get your crew to back off, then."

"uh. . ." Sans raised his brow at her. He shrugged. "not sure whatcha mean, lady."

She laughed through her nose.

"He _said _you'd be difficult," she noted bitterly, shaking her head.

"heh. must have the wrong guy. me 'n difficult are night and day. can never get us in the same place."

He plucked a single french fry from his plate and popped it into his mouth.

The young lady drummed her fingertails against the bar counter with impatience.

"Do you _want _us to get your brother involved?" she threatened. "Because that would _not _be hard."

All right.  
This wasn't gonna go away, huh?  
Lady had a real bone to pick.

Sans' head slowly creaked to his left.

When he matched glances with this stranger, he felt a tingle of someone familiar.

Damnedest thing...

He took off his glasses. He polished them on his sleeve.

"do i..._know _you from somewhere?" He put his glasses back on.

She paused, a hand on her hip, refusing to relent under his curious gaze.

"_Don't _you?" she replied slyly, her brows twitching.

A tension floated – around, behind, in front of them.  
Like a fog.

Their eyes dodged around each other's expressions.

Avoidance, now...that was something Sans was good at.

"ya know. i don't," Sans declared with a shrug, breaking their staring contest. He was never one for winning. Too much work.

She seethed quietly down at him, "And it'll be better for you if we keep it that way, and I never have to see you again."

"sure. sounds good to me."

Sans pulled out a slice of tomato from his hamburger and slid it into his mouth.

"Is _anything _I'm saying getting through?" she huffed. "Or is your head as empty as everyone says?"

Sans took a sip of his beer.

She went on.

"We are _not _fucking around, here."

"hey. lady."

"_What?_" she hissed.

Sans paused.

He tapped his finger against his beer bottle twice.

He took off his eye glasses again and sighed, rubbing at his face.

"look. here's some friendly advice."

He could senseher teeth grinding together with impatience.  
Feel her skull _glowing _with something he thought was supposed to be dead and buried.

"if you keep going the way you are now. . ."

He twisted his head toward her, nice and slow.

". . ."

He cut through her glaring with his own intense stare, grinning over his shoulder.  
His brows hopped devilishly with the last two slow syllables he spoke.

"you're gonna have a _**bad time**_."

Rachel blinked.

And he was gone.

No, wait..._Gone_?

_What?!_

He was gone. Fucking **gone.** Just his plate remained, with some wrinkled cash pinned beneath his empty beer bottle.

_Oh_-ho, that _sneaky_ mother fucker...Thought he was so...-

Rachel's phone vibrated.

Her head lulled back as her eyes rolled upward. Biting her lip impatiently, she checked her phone.

( Don't bother. )-  
( You won't be able to catch him. )-  
( He got the message. )-  
( Let's go. )-

Rachel grimaced at that. The hell did he think he was, ordering her around? Rachel didn't follow orders from anyone.

She flagged down the bartender – a dorky, square-looking guy in a suit with small glasses over unassuming eyes. His strawberry blonde hair was an intentional mess of wavy locks, streaked back with the tips flicked up. Had on a bow-tie, the nerd.

"Hey," she growled at him, gesturing toward that clown's leftovers. "You know that prick? Did you see where he went?"

The bartender's expression was...actually hard to read. Which was saying something – Rachel was _very _good at decrypting expressions. But this guy had quite the poker face.

"Do I _look _like I have time to dick around?" she asked him testily, fluttering irritated eyelids.

He simply shrugged, shaking his head, and said not a word, returning to his clients down the bar, who shot Rachel disbelieving glance.

Rachel's nose wrinkled as things bubbled to the surface. In a moment of frustration, she swiped up the empty beer bottle from the counter, holding it aloft. Her grip tightened around it, and she huffed out an **"ARGH!**", smashing the bottle against the counter. It shattered in half, spraying brown shards across the tiled floor.

"Where the _fuck _did he go?!" she roared at the barkeep, who seemed barely fazed.

The restaurant went silent, save for the eerie singing coming from the television.

_[ " Maybe you're looking for someone to blame  
Fighting for air while you circle the drain " ]_

She clutched the makeshift shank at her side, glowering at the bartender, whose expression soured slightly. _Some _kind of reaction, at least.

_[ " Never be sorry for your little time  
It's not when you get there, it's always the climb " ]_

She could burn this place to the fucking _ground, _if she wanted to. _That _would take care of their problem, wouldn't it?

Her phone vibrated, startling her out of her fit.

_Fucking_...**fuck.**

( Are you REALLY going to make a scene here? )-  
( **YOU IDIOT.** )-  
( I thought you were smarter than that. )-

A number of folks were gawking at her.  
She'd lost it for a sec, there. Shit.  
She tucked her phone away, trying to recollect her cool.

Closing her eyes and clenching her teeth, she stopped herself from raging any further. She took a deep breath. She wiped her hair back behind her shoulders. She set what remained of the bottle onto the counter top, and loosened her muscles.

He texted her again.

( That's better. )-  
( But you're still on thin ice. )-  
( Now let's GO. )-

She spitefully stomped past the bartender, snarling at him, "Yea, _keep _this shit up, _watch _what happens...We'll be _back._"

And with that, she slipped out of the restaurant.

From across the way, Max was standing up, filming the woman exiting with her phone.

"Whoa, you're...pretty quick with that thing," Alex observed, a little off-put.

Ensuring the file was saved, Max noticed two others who had similarly pulled out their phones – for very different reasons than her, but she appreciated the camouflage. She discreetly sat back down, shrugging sheepishly and flashing Alex a plastic smile of embarrassment.

"Ah, y-yea. Reflex," she dismissed. "Was, uh, worried that chick might go all _Streets of Rage_ on us for a minute." She scooted herself in and picked up her menu.

"Seems like a good reflex to have," pondered Alex. "If something had happened, you'd, uh, ya know-...You'd have proof. Right?"

"Mm." Max nodded, her hands primly flipping through laminated menu pages.

Her head was spiraling. That was _totally _Rachel Amber. It had to be. And she seemed to have an even shorter fuse than the stories Chloe had told her.

Their waitress, who had been momentarily stopped by the commotion, cleared her throat, pulling out her tablet.

"_Well,_" the waitress sighed. "That happened."

Alex and Max chuckled nervously.

"Sorry about that," said the waitress. "Um, what did you want to eat?"

Max was kind of panicking under the surface, cycling through the menu with indecision. Why was it always so hard to make simple choices like this?

Alex, meanwhile, simply stole a quick glance at her own menu and, after a moment's hesitation, shrugged.

"Do you need more time to-"  
"A tuna melt with extra avocado!" Alex blurted, cutting the waiter off.

It seemed more like a snap decision than something Alex specifically liked. But Max was one to talk – er, think. Judge?

_Blegh._

"I'll have what she's having," Max 'decided', (_gragh_) handing the menu back whilst sighing in spite of her situation. She watched the waitress go off with their order, taking the opportunity to sneak a glance at the bar. No sign of either of the suspicious folks on her radar. The bartender was tidily sweeping up the broken beer bottle pieces.

"Oh, _man,_" Alex blurted suddenly. "Is that Crash Red?"

"...Huh?" Max stirred herself from her snooping, turning back to her lunch date.

Alex was smiling warmly, cheeks in her palms, elbows on the table. She tilted her head up slightly to a TV hanging in a corner of the restaurant. Against a dimly lit stage, a musician clad in a golden dress stood. Looked about Max's age, with bright red hair curled elegantly, and a fluffy white collar. A large sash around her waist portrayed a gold triangle – a motif that carried through to the stage lights behind her. She was singing pensively into a microphone, clasping its stand with a subtle melancholy.

_[ " Seconds march into the past  
The moments pass  
And just like that, they're gone " ]_

Well. She _did _seem pretty good.

"I _love _her," Alex gushed. "Her tour's coming our way soon – _psh,_ no way I can get tickets to _that, _though..." She sighed dejectedly, and with a certain admiration, then picked back up her enthusiasm. "_Ah, _man, Mae told me they're having the Battles of the Bands at the base of Celeste Mountain? Out on the outskirts of town. And Crash Red's gonna be the headliner. It's gonna be _amazing, _I bet."

"Mm," Max hummed thoughtfully, trying to be polite, though truthfully not feeling very interested. Her head was elsewhere. Which was kind of bad. Alex had really been putting up with a lot of Max's...'Max-ness,' with very little to show for it. Alex somehow seemed like a kindred spirit to Max – a sixth sense Max couldn't explain – they just had to work their way up from this awkward start.

"You okay?" Alex checked. "Sorry if I'm boring you, just...trying to break the ice, I guess. Forget about that bottle-shank psycho, and everything _else _going on out here lately."

"No, no, you're fine," Max insisted, trying to save face. She was feeling a little guilty for her ulterior motive in picking this spot for their lunch. She'd keep her eyes peeled, just in case, but perhaps she'd best juggle her social life a little. "Sorry, my mind...wanders a lot, and I can lose track of what's right in front of me." She laughed weakly. With some self-loathing.

"Heh, Mae said I should expect that," Alex teased.

"_Did _they, now?" Max sighed, scratching her brow warily. "Um, so are you two getting along well?"

"_Uhh, _yea! I think," Alex said with a nod and a gentle shrug. "They're not home very often, so it's kind of hard to say. It's like our home's just...this place they sleep in, and that's sorta it? So, yea. Not much quality time together. But I guess that's better than us being at each other's throats or something."

Max acknowledged this with a bob of her head. She was itching to double check her phone – try looking up Rachel on social media, see what she could find. But that would be hella rude. So. Focus! Social...things! She had to balance this against her job or she'd go crazy.

"Mae's...fun," Max cited, unsure about her own statement as soon as it popped out. "They, _urh, _get into a fair bit of trouble, but...-"

"But when your aunt is a _cop, _you get some leeway," Alex pointed out.

"Oh, ha." Max had forgotten about that. It had been years since she'd seen Mae's aunt. "Maybe," Max pondered. "But, honestly, I think that's just helped Mae learn how to fly under the radar better."

"Huh," Alex spat, brows raised. "You might be right."

"Eh, enough about Mae, though," Max decided. "What about _you_?"

"Me?" Alex eked with a nervous laugh through her nose. She shrugged disparagingly. "Ah, not really much to say. Still, uh, looking for work," she said, drumming her fingers – both hands – against the table. "But...I don't care about _any _of the jobs I've applied to."

"Mm, I know how that goes," Max sympathized. "I ended up stuck as a barista for a while when I was starting out, down at the Starfox on Blackwell campus. Not glamorous, but...you do what you have to to pay the bills."

"I guess you do," Alex agreed with a tired glaze over her eyes. "At least you had photography to lean back on, though."

Max hummed and nodded complacently. She was _not _at all utilizing her photography skills in a way she had even remotely intended to when she'd picked up the craft. But, well, at least she was getting to use it for good, rather than not getting to use it for much at all.

"Well, I'm sure you have _something _useful you picked up from Blackwell," said Max, trying to be be encouraging.

"Nnnnn_not _really," Alex blankly replied. "Part of why I flunked was because I just-...Well, I couldn't decide what I even _wanted _to do. I _still _don't know." A weird sigh drizzled out of her nose as she shrugged with defeat, mumbling under her breath. "I still fucking don't..."

"Ah, w-well," Max scratched at her nose. A shrug came out as she said, "I know a thing or two about...not really knowing what to do with yourself."

"Decisions are _hard,_" Alex blurted out with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Max, on instinct, reacted with an equally wary laugh.

"They _are_," she agreed.

They both nodded through sighs, gazes wandering.

"Hey, so, um-..." Max was curious. "Last night. How'd it go with Clarissa?"

"Oh," Alex replied bitterly. "It _didn't _go."

Max paused, absorbing the subtleties of Alex's micro expressions.

"What happened?" Max probed.

Alex's eyelids fluttered with irritation and her glance slid sideways. A shoulder popped up dismissively.

"We ran late – I mean, it was my fault, completely. But...it's not like she had anything _better _to be doing, she just...-" Alex shook her head, her self-deprecation turning sour. "-...blew me _off, _full stop, _just_ because we were late."

"Huh," Max responded, neutrally.

"Turned us away at the door."

"Mm."

"And then, _of course, _I get a whole mouthful from Jonas, instead. Fucking-...If it's not one person on my ass, it's someone else..."

"Why were you late, though? The text I got last night – you met someone?"

"Oh, _ha._" Alex's face twinkled with warmth, briefly. "We, uh, had a detour at that dive bar you told me about?"

"Valhalla?"

"Yea. That one. People there were...-" Her eyes glazed over. "-...ehm, prrrretty cool."

Max chuckled softly through her nose.

"Sounds like you'll be going there again," Max noted.

Wiping her dumb smile from her face, Alex shrugged, but nodded.

"_Yea, _yea," she sighed out, drumming her fingers on the table. "You and Chloe should come with."

"Sure," Max agreed complacently. "_Mm, _just, uh...text me some time and we'll work out a day."

"Willll do," Alex blurted slowly. Now she was tapping her knuckles against the table to a rhythm only she could hear.

"Oh, uh, right -" Max wriggled an index finger, recalling another detail. "You mentioned a job lead you got?"

"Ha, sorta, yea," said Alex, rocking her head left and right slightly. "Some research place here in town."

"What's it called?" Max wondered.

"Errrhh...-" Alex's eyes rolled back as she fished into her pocket, retrieving her wallet. She whipped out a business and passed it across the table.

{ Olivia Calomar}  
{ _Software Engineer _}  
**{ FUTUREGADGET LABS }**

Max recognized the name of the company. They seemed to put out all kinds of home appliances with some kind of twist to them – from TV remotes to microwaves. But Max found it odd that they had a straight-up _laboratory _in the heart of Arcadia. They claimed to do all kinds of market research there, branching out into neuro-science in recent years. It was almost like the company had shifted from an interest in consumer products to legit science. When you had the money to spare...-

Max handed the card back.

"What kind of position are you applying for?"

"_Oh, _it's..._not_...exactly...-" Alex grimaced squeamishly. "I'd just be a lab rat. Basically."

Lips slightly agape, Max's head tipped up a bit before she nodded warily.

"That...sounds kinda weird," said Max bluntly, but softly.

Alex drizzled out a sigh.

"It does, but...money's _money_, and I..._really _kinda need it."

Max nodded contemplatively, the thought distracting her to her phone, and the work she had on her plate for the evening.

"Yea," agreed Max tiredly. "I know how that goes..."

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"You all right in there?" Aloy asked from the bedroom, tying her damp hair into a ponytail.

After their shower together, Lena had lingered in the bathroom. It had actually been a little while, too. It made Aloy a little self-conscious – had something maybe gone wrong?

"Lena?" Aloy called when she received no reply.

"Just...giving the old gams a trim!" Lena called from behind the bathroom door.

"Oh," Aloy replied. She was shaving her legs? "I could've...helped you with that, if...-"  
"_Nahhh, _'s all right, Luv. Can handle it myself."

Aloy shrugged, though Lena couldn't see this.

"All right," Aloy acknowledged, heading back to the bedroom of their apartment.

Aloy unwrapped her towel from her abdomen, gave her ponytail one last pat down, and chucked the towel into their laundry hamper. With a tired yawn – that had been quite a, erm, _marathon _they'd just had – Aloy slapped on a loose t-shirt and a comfy pair of underwear.

She sat herself down on their bed, curling herself up into a contemplative ball. Her head felt like it was practically sinking into her pillow, with how tired she was. Waiting on leads to check out, Aloy and Lena hadn't really been able to progress on the case. So. Another long day of being shoved around on patrol, separated from her partner – Lena had been tasked with fucking _parking ticket _duty, though she seemed cheery enough about it. But Aloy felt a bit constipated being saddled with a speeding ticket shift. _Surely _their energies could be better spent, right? They were getting _so _close to an 'in' with Los Muertos.

If Aloy could just get the Captain to let them do their _jobs, _unhindered,and get Lena to-...

Aloy popped her eyes open, realizing she was drifting off. Her eyesight focused on the nightstand in front of her – Lena's side of the bed. Contact lenses, an empty glass (previously full of milk), her cell phone, a framed photo of her and some chunky lad Aloy didn't know (_'one of my best mates,'_ Lena had said, vaguely), and...Lena's medallion.

Oh, huh. Lena always wore that thing around her neck, sometimes even pinning it to her shirt or vest. Aloy found herself realizing that Lena rarely took the thing off and always took it with her. It really meant a lot to her, apparently, but whenever Aloy asked about the medallion, she'd get indirect answers.

_'My good luck charm,' _Lena had taken to calling it.

But Aloy knew there had to be more to it than that. Any kind of charm – anything a person would wear so religiously – had to come with _some _kind of meaning. Even Aloy's bluetooth ear piece had significant meaning to her. She'd rather get it repaired than just buy a new one. Even if things with her and her mother were, well, 'distant,' one might say, Aloy still savored wearing something that helped her feel connected to her mother. And, well, _literally _connected to others. Her mother had _built _the device herself, and all. It was precious, one of a kind.

But it was still a device. It served a practical purpose.  
This medallion? Just an _impractical _decoration, wasn't it? There had to be _meaning _behind why Lena wore it _everywhere _she went.

Aloy scooted herself over the side of the bed and picked the necklace up.

Aloy was mesmerized by the piece of metal. Maybe half a foot in diameter, it was a sizeable chunk of jewelry to lug around everywhere. Yet Aloy had never gotten such a close look at it – Lena typically would hide it away if anyone tried fussing with it. It was amazingly thin and light, like a small CD, yet unbendable. Sturdy. A black disc with metallic, light blue shapes embossed over it in ring-like patterns.. The backside had an inscription etched into it, one Aloy had never seen before:

{ Imagination is  
the essence  
of discovery. }

Huh.

Aloy's fingers started to get a bit sore from holding the thing. Almost like an allergic reaction. But she found herself strangely entranced by the object. Almost as if it-

"Whatcha _lookin'_ at?"  
"_Guh-!_"

Lena had blurted the question right into Aloy's ear, and Aloy had been startled by Lena's sudden appearance. In her shock, she fumbled the medallion around, dropping it to the floor – only it didn't land on the floor. Lena had swiftly lunged over the side of the bed, catching the piece by its tether.

"_Bugger_," Lena huffed through clenched teeth, tumbling off the bed. She scrambled the medallion abreast as she rolled over onto her back. She protected the thing like it was her child, though it had pretty sturdy in Aloy's grasp.

Sprawling out onto the floor, Lena's eyes went fiery at Aloy.

"Wh-What're ya doing, poking 'round my stuff, A?" Lena demanded, her tone jarringly sharp.

Aloy wiped her ponytail back over her shoulders and shrugged, aghast at this reaction.

"It was on the nightstand, I was just-"  
"That's not an invitation to get all _grabby _with my things."

Lena looked 'proper pissed' as she pulled herself up from the floor. She slipped the medallion around her neck, then realigned her bra with a huff.

"Shouldn't mess about with stuff that isn't yours," Lena grumbled, fidgeting with her necklace. She looked like a child whose treehouse had been peered into.

The _hell _was her problem, all of a sudden? What was so special about some trinket, some 'good luck charm?' Back when they'd just been police partners, strictly, these kinds of things had never come up – Lena seemed quite keen on hiding her past. But now that they were _dating, _living together, it was becoming more and more of an obstacle. Aloy tried to be an open book about her complicated history, little as she understood it. Still, it wasn't the right time for her to rock the boat too fiercely – not when their day job was still such a stressor. And the more Aloy pondered on it, the more she realized she wasn't _as _forthcoming with people as she could be...like with their impending dinner meet-up, for example...

"Sorry," Aloy said. "I didn't...realize your _jewelry _was so important to you. I didn't mean to...-"

"It not...-!" Lena burst out, stopping herself. She closed her eyes and took a breath. "Just...-" Lena shaved the edge off of her tone. She sighed, running her fingertip across the grooves in her medallion. She mumbled dejectedly, "Don't like you snooping through my personal bits, is all."

Aloy snorted a small laugh.

"What?" Lena pouted.

Smirking, Aloy crawled over, head on Lena's shoulder. She murmured slyly, "Your 'personal bits?' I distinctly remember you feeling _differently_ not too long ago..." Aloy tickled her fingers against the sides of Lena's ribs, and the two chuckled a bit as Lena wriggled herself out.

"Oi, come _off _it," Lena said between laughs. As they stopped, she sighed out, "_You _know what I meant..."

Lena glanced down on her shoulder at Aloy. Head leaned sideways, copper hair tumbling down, hazel eyes peeking up with inquisition...the sight of Aloy's vulnerable curiosity made Lena tingle.

Aloy teased quietly, mimicking Lena's accent, "Jus' tryin' ta lighten the mood, tho, in'it?"

By 'mimicking,' it was more like...a mess of intonation.

"A-_pffff,_" Lena laughed, shrugging Aloy off. "The _bloody _hell kind of accent was _that_?"

"You tell _me_," Aloy said with a meek, self-humored shrug. "_Luv._"

Smirking wryly, Lena posed, "Oh, you mocking me, now? That it, then? That's your play?"

Aloy was sprawled halfway on the bed, her legs hanging off. Looking up at Lena, she narrowed her eyes, smiling a tight-lipped smile. She lifted and lowered her brows.

"Depends," Aloy replied. "Is it a play that'll _win_?"

"_Cheeky_," Lena taunted. She breathed out tiredly but pleasantly, rubbing her hand across Aloy's stomach. Above the shirt. Then under the shirt.

And before she realized it, they were pressed together, making out again. Which was pretty fine, so far as Lena was concerned. They'd inadvertently bumped their foreheads into each other while maneuvering their kissing, which had broken the moment into a snicker fit.

Aloy rolled off onto her back, and Lena rested her head against Aloy's stomach, curling up and clasping her medallion.

Why couldn't she get Aloy to laugh and smile like this more often anymore? It was like...all of this _tension _had built up between them over time, and when Lena had finally mustered the courage to ask her out – and they'd fumbled haphazardly through the bullocks of a mess _that _had been – they'd come out the other side just...not as _happy _as Lena would've thought.

She'd been so excited to move in together, to finally have _'that' _kind of person again, after so long. Only it hadn't been going quite as she would've liked. Or expected. And unlike other things Lena could write off as mistakes, things to fix, to correct, this...wasn't _like _that.

It was _work.  
_And Lena was not used to that.  
But she wanted to figure out where it led.

"Uhh...So, A." Lena swallowed, staring at the way Aloy's feet were rocking left and right at the edge of the bed.

"Yea?"

"I do something wrong?"

A pause.

"Wait, what?" Aloy shuffled around, sitting up and easing Lena to roll over. Now looking up at Aloy's concerned face, Lena had a pinch of regret in bringing this up. "What do you mean?" Aloy pressed, when Lena avoided her piercing gaze of concern.

"Ah, only you've been _kinda..._not..._happy? _Lately?" Lena noted, her eyes stealing a quick look at Aloy, only to dart right back away. "Sorta lines up with, ya know, when I...moved in?"

A heavy quiet hung over the pair as Lena sighed warily.

"Oh. Wh-whoa, hey," Aloy eased, running her head across Lena's head. "No, that's just...the _job, _this case Amari has us on."

"Fat lotta good _I _seem to be doing," puffed Lena bitterly. She ran her thumb across her medallion, its metal touch soothing against her chest. "I just wonder, A, like...if you could go back – to when you were done in Meridian, came back 'round here – would you do anything differently? Undo any mistakes?"

Aloy took a moment to process this. Lena's glance shifted toward her, observing the way Aloy's brows lowered, the way she pushed stray braids of copper back over her shoulders.

"What's this really about?" Aloy asked directly.

Lena sighed, shaking her head slightly at her attempt to ask such an odd question.

"You were demoted because of _me,_" Lena cited tiredly. "And it _doesn't _really seem like you've been too thrilled about that recently."

Aloy's lips went to form words, her head shook a little, but she paused. She took a deep breath, sighing through her nose.

"I mean, we were...maybe a bit _hasty_," Aloy conceded, quickly adding, "but it's not _you_, it's...-" She huffed, wriggling her hands around her. "-...it's everything _else_."

"_Oh, _wow," Lena grunted, "You really using that one, are you? The 'it's not you, it's me' thing? Come off it," she sighed out.

"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" Aloy sharply asked. She said it in that calm, thoughtful way she did. It normally helped reign Lena back down to earth, but...-

"We just...-?" Lena paused, chewed her lip a little, and shook her head slightly. "We just _stumbling _'round? Whichever way's forward? 'Cause I want you to be _happy, _A, not...just...carrying on."

"Lena," Aloy said quietly. She scratched her nails through her taut hair, dropping her hand to her side.

Lena had more thoughts to shove out.

"Only I _look _at your past, and how you are now, and-...and it just _feels _sometimes like you'll get bored of me, move on, like you did the others."

Aloy winced at this, rubbing her palm over her eyes.

"Look," Aloy said plainly, "I _like _you."

"You liked _them, _too," Lena defensively muttered, her fears sliding right out of her lips.

"What do you want me to say? I can't..._guarantee _how the future is going to play out," Aloy groaned with a sharp shrug.

"What if you _could_?" Lena posed quietly, her fingertip sliding clockwise around her medallion's edge. "What if you _knew_ we weren't gonna work out? Would you still have said 'yes' in the first place?"

Aloy rolled her eyes, her head shifting impatiently. She didn't like these theoretical, hypothetical questions. Aloy was a woman of facts, truth, evidence, what was in front of her, what made sense. Lena knew that.

And Lena _needed _that sometimes.  
Especially when she was tempted to go to places she wasn't supposed to.

"I would have," Aloy decided. "I mean, just because something – or someone – doesn't go the way you think it will, that doesn't mean you can't _learn _from it. It doesn't just...make everything that happened _pointless. _My old partners? I'm still _friends _with them. And, I mean, even if I wasn't, they still helped me grow as a person. I could take your question and apply it to my family. Would have I spent any _less _time with them had I known how things would work out? No. I would've just...-" She ran her hand through Lena's hair. "-...appreciated the present – the time I had, when I had it – even more, I think."

_Gah. Bugger._

Aloy knew just what to say to get Lena back where she ought to be.

"I know I've been difficult," Aloy offered. "Maybe we should've taken it slower, I-...I couldn't say. It doesn't matter, either way. We are where we are. Do _not _go thinking I regret choosing this – choosing you. Because I don't. When I make a decision, it's one I won't regret later."

"_Pah-!_" Lena laughed in spite of herself. "Least one of us does, then. Could ya _teach _me? 'Cause I am _rubbish _with that stuff."

"Heh. I would've figured the academy training would've already gotten you there," Aloy mused, "but when you mention it, you _do _seem to fly head-long into things..."

"Ah, yea, I, urh...-" Lena wasn't quite sure how to phrase her reply, dodging Aloy's implication about 'training.' "Well, it takes all sorts, though, doesn't it?"

"It does," Aloy agreed with a serene warmth.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Aloy looked pretty tense. Tight. Lena could see it in the woman's jaws, in her neck muscles.

"It's all _right, _Luv," Lena assured gently, giving Aloy's knee a jolly little rub of encouragement. "It'll be _fine, _it'll be _smashing!_"

"Y-_Yea, _I know," Aloy agreed, trying to trim the shakiness off of her tone.

"What's with all the fussing? Supposed to be all iron-like, aren't we?"

"Been...a long week, is all, I just...-" Aloy bobbed her head, and Lena could see those lovely little eyes flicker with doubt. "Getting a little worn out of keeping up appearances. Like...my armor's being chipped away by all these...fucking _reminders_ of what a screw-up I am, and...-" Aloy sighed a nervous laugh, her breath quivering. She rubbed at her eyes a little and sniffed, trying to stop tears before they started.

Lena could feel her own chest freeze up with empathy and understanding.

But they had to keep moving forward. Aloy motivated Lena to move _forward _in a way no one else had in quite some time.

Lena ran her hand through Aloy's brushed hair, leaned across the car seat, and gave Aloy a tender kiss on the cheek. She lingered, head pressed against Aloy's.

"You're _not _a screw-up, A," Lena insisted softly.

"Sure _feels _like it," Aloy panted, her breath getting unsteady.

"It's rough stuff right now," Lena acknowledged. "It is. And we'll sort it out." She continued to run her fingers against the edges of Aloy's copper mane. She waited for the woman to calm down a little. It was understandable – lots of stress going round, and Amari had _not _been too keen with them as of late. Must've really rattled Aloy a bit.

Lena? Well, Lena was _used _to making mistakes.  
And then, you know...dancing around them, dodging them.  
Undoing them.

"But right now?" Lena tilted her head low, trying to make eye contact as she ran her fingers from Aloy's hair to her cheek. "Let's just try n'...have a good time with your mates, yea?"

Aloy sucked in a deep breath, exhaling loudly, but calmly.

"Thanks," Aloy mumbled, giving Lena's hand a squeeze. It was her turn to lean over for a kiss – on the lips, this time. "_Wow,_" Aloy grumbled, rubbing her eyes dry. "Haven't done _that _in a while."

"What, _kissed_?"

"_Cried_," said Aloy with a sheepish, pink-cheeked smile. "Not very 'officer-like,' is it?"

"_Awh, _agh, sappy, sappy," said Lena, dismissing the thought. "Human beings and all, right? Gotta let that stuff out now n' again."

"Yea, but...the Captain's not been too happy with how we...-"

Aloy's phone buzzed, throwing her sentence off track as she checked it immediately.

"They're here," Aloy murmured.

Lena rubbed her partner's back a little as a reply was sent.

"We just got here, too, period. Meet you out front, period."

A, she sure loved talking to her tech, huh?

"_All _right," Aloy huffed, ready to exit the car. "Let's...introduce you. I guess."

As they exited the car, Aloy scanned the parking lot of the fast-food joint. She waved toward a man getting out of a car across the lot from them.

"_Whew_, Big Bang Burger, huh?" said the man, slamming passenger door shut. "Haven't been to one of _these _in a while..."

Dressed in a thick brown coat, unzipped enough to reveal an orange ascot, he had on baggy jeans and heavy working boots. The man also had a mutton-chops beard and a double undercut hairdo – shaved right down to the skin, _yeep._ He was a sturdy looking chap, though. Strong nose, _stronger _chin, but soft eyes. Lena couldn't make sense of it until she noticed how soft his eyes were. Had to have been what had Aloy's interest in the first place, eh?

"We don't even _have_ these in Meridian," mused the man's traveling companion. The woman locked up the car and looked up at the restaurant's sign. She tucked her hands into her tall, flowing black coat. She was wearing a shiny maroon necktie – could see it peeking up between the popped collar. Black slacks and low-heeled boots beneath.

She had wide, inviting eyes, a flat, tall nose, big lips, and soft features. Those eyes, though...A golden brown color, big and warm, but something very sharp beneath. That sharpness came through in her expressions, her body language. Warm, friendly, but also fierce. Lena could see the appeal.

"Heh," the man grinned at his travel companion and gave her shoulder a bump with his fist. "You even _allowed _to eat this stuff?"

She lowered her eyelids at him and smirked.

"I'm 'allowed' to eat whatever the hell I _want_," she retorted, to which he flashed up his palms, smiling in jest.

"Oh," Aloy blurted squeamishly. "Should we not-...? I didn't think about-..."  
Was kind of adorable seeing her all awkward for a change.

"Been trying to lay off the junk food," Lena jumped in, "but Aloy says you lot have some history here?"

"Sure do," agreed the mutton-chopped man, hands braced on his hips as he stared up at the neon-lit sign. It portrayed a cartoonish hamburger with a face. Kinda creepy, actually, the longer Lena looked at it.

"Our unit used to come here for get-togethers all the time," explained the woman.

"_Heh,_" chuckled the man with a nostalgic sniff. He muttered to Aloy, "Still remember the first time you and I-..._erh-_..." He trailed off, his eyes snapping wide for a sec before darting elsewhere.

"_Yeaaa, _old times," Aloy blurted with a forced laugh that...was _not _her. "I'll go, uh, get us a table," Aloy spat out suddenly. Nodding with a nervous sound, she stumbled her way to the front door.

The trio was left with in a moment of odd, bemused silence.

Squinting off at Aloy, the man noted, "She, uh-...She knows it's a fast food joint. Right?"

"Nice one," taunted the woman, giving the man a shove. "Barely a minute back and you've already driven her off again."

"_Gah,_" the man huffed, shrugging the odd moment away. "Guess I always did have a knack for that."

"_Ah, _naw," Lena assured. "She's always seemed proper pleased to have known you. She's...just a bit rattled, is all," Lena assured. "Been in a rough spot this week."

"She forgot to introduce us," the woman noted with a bewildered glance off to Aloy, slipping into the restaurant.

The man shrugged, citing, "Eh, we can probably take care of that ourselves, right? It's not like we don't...know who each other are, anyway. Keep it casual, you know?"

"With the week _we _have ahead of us," grumbled the woman, "I could _use _'casual.'"

"Brilliant," said Lena, sticking out an energetic arm. "Name's Lena Oxton! And _you _must be Erend."

"I _hope _I am," jested the man, accepting Lena's grip. Lena eagerly took it, and shook, jostling him around a bit. "Erend Oseram," he clarified through a soft chuckle. "Quite a-..._Wow. _Bit of a handshake, you've got."

Lena grinned as she jabbed said hand hand toward the woman, who paused with hesitation and an amused glance.

"Talanah Khane-Padish," she introduced, gripping Lena's hand tightly and holding it firm when Lena tried to shake things up. "So. _You're _this 'Tracer' I've heard about, huh?" Lena could tell the woman was sizing her up. "Able to track down a target no matter how faint the trail?"

"_Aye_-aye, that's me," Lena said with a beaming smile. "Got a reputation, do I?"

"In certain circles," Talanah said with a wry smirk. Damn, Lena couldn't get a good read on what she was thinking when she said it like _that._

"Speaking of reputation," Erend put out, lowering his voice a bit. "what's this about Aloy getting demoted, anyway?"

"Wh-what?"

Lena's chest went ice-cold with fret at being confronted with such a question. These were Aloy's old chums, and such things weren't Lena's business to blab, right? Couldn't go scolding her girlfriend about that stuff and then go gossiping.

"I mean," Erend frowned a bit, "after everything she did for us, just to get knocked back down a peg? It doesn't make sense, does it?"

Lena shrugged sheepishly, swallowing the lump in her throat.  
Had Aloy not..._told _them?  
Bullox.

"I, urh...-"

"Hey, what happened to 'casual?'" posed Talanah, giving Erend a brusque shoulder shove as she waved out to Aloy, who was beckoning them in. She concluded the matter quietly with, "If you're so curious, why not ask her yourself?"

"Y-yea, probably best," Lena murmured, trying to stern-up her expression mid-nod.

"_Pff_," Talanah laughed softly. As they approached the front door, she mused to Lena, "Gotta admit, you are _not _at all what I expected..."

"Eh?" Lena was pricked by the remark. What did _that _mean?

Aloy opened the glass door for them, leaning against it with a nod. Her arms were crossed around her chest, her chin tipped unnaturally high.

"Hah, just like old times, right?" she breathed out, letting them all enter.

"Think I still have the guts to take the Challenge?" Erend postured to Aloy as they went inside.

"Oh, _shit_," Talanah burst out through a chuckle, shaking her head. "I forgotyou _did _that."

"Wow, yea. That was a _long _time ago," Aloy recalled, letting the door close behind her. Lena admired the way her expression relaxed, if only briefly, into a nostalgic glow.

"Huh, wonder if they still have my photo on the wall," said Erend in a mumble, tilting his head around the corner as they reached the reception counter.

"Challenge?" Lena prodded.

"One of those time-limit eating-endurance things," Talanah explained. "Bunch of machismo _bullshit _if you ask me, but...-" She shrugged it off. "Everything can and _will _be a sport, for those who make it so..."

"Welcome to Big Bang Burger," greeted the girl at the front counter, "open twenty-four hours a day because there's no day or night in space!" Everyone gestured and blurted out their greetings. The worker added, "We're now offering a limited edition seasonal item: the Moon Burger!"

"Hey, so, uh," Erend jumped in, "you still do the Challenge here?"

"Oh, _here _he goes," Talanah said with a smirk and an eyeroll. She nudged Lena with an elbow, and Lena glowed at the nonchalant moment of comradery.

"We certainly do!" replied the worker, straightening her visor. "Have you taken the Challenge before?"

"Hell yes, I _have_," Erend said, tilting his head with a child-like smugness. "Reached 'Captain' rank back in the day." Jovially bragging, he added hesitantly, "I, uh, ya know, I _don't _have my pin on me, though."

"_Ohhhhh_-kay, down, boy," Aloy said, nudging Erend back a bit. "We're just here to catch up, not...take down a burger beast."

"Eh," Erend shrugged. "Truth be told, I don't think my blood pressure could handle that much grease anymore, anyway."

"That's fine," Talanah ribbed. "Now get that chip off your shoulder and let's order something."

"All right, all right," sighed Erend. "Gotta keep it 'casual.'"

The group went about ordering their meals, and Aloy ended up whisking herself away to the loo, leaving Lena alone with the lot. Again.

They took their seats at the booth Aloy had picked out, and Talanah took out her phone.

She quietly advised her companion, "Wilhelm's got you starting bright and early tomorrow with the EOD class."

"_Offff _course he does," Erend muttered. "And I bet you've got the juicy midday slot with Amari Jr.?"

"That I do," Talanah bragged nonchalantly.

Amused, Lena pointed out, "_Fff, _better not call Fareeha 'Jr.' or she'll duff you right up."

"You're probably right," said Erend. "Uh. I mean, assuming that means what I _think _it means."

Lena smiled wryly at him and clarified, "She'll beat the _daylights _outta ya."

Jaw slightly agape, Erend nodded, mumbling, "Yehp, yeh, thought so."

"Not going to lie," said Talanah, "it feels pretty good to be considered Pharah's equal."

"You _are,_" Erend insisted.

"Oi, 'Pharah?'" Lena poked. "So you know her, then."  
'Pharah' had become a nickname Fareeha had assumed with her mates and co-workers from her early days on the force.

"To be frank," said Talanah, "I wouldn't be surprised if she's not with the APD come this time next year."

"Why's that?" asked Lena, roused with concerned curiosity.

"Politics," Erend said simply. "Trust me, you'd be better off _not _knowing."

Talanah considered, "I _would _tell you to keep that on the down-low, _but_...it's not like her mother would be upset to hear such a thing."

"_Agh, _yea," Lena recalled, "the Captain would be quite chuffed over something like that, eh?"

"It's just what I picked from the grape vine," Talanah said dismissively. "Don't stoke that fire, just...-" She bobbed her head a bit, clearly conflicted over what to say. "Don't be surprised if your department sees some big changes in the new year."

"That why they have you training folks here?" Lena assumed, prodding in to start more conversation. "Getting chaps lined up to fill new shoes, or something?"

"_Ah, _not exactly," Erend acknowledged. "After everything our precinct dealt with this spring, Morrisson wanted us to do a little Homecoming dance, here. Refresh your crew on what's what. _You _know. Just in case."

"When they scheduled us," Talanah cited, "I thought it was just some jittery overreacting, but...-" She shrugged, shaking her head solemnly. "Seeing as Arcadia's had that string of bombings lately, now I kind of wish they'd squeezed us in _earlier._"

"Huh," Lena spat thoughtfully. Was true, some folks had died. Whole point of their sort was to _stop _that happening. "You thinking what happened in Meridian could repeat itself over here?"

"_Mmm_," Talanah squinted doubtfully. "Not exactly, but...since we still haven't figured out the root cause, there's no telling. Could turn into a national security thing if we're not careful."

"_Bloody _hell, it _better _not," Lena groaned, finding herself wondering about her own place in what was beginning to feel like a bigger puzzle.

Aloy finally returned from the lavatory, overhearing the last piece.

"What had 'better not,' now?" she tried to slide into the conversation, taking her seat beside Lena.

Lena scooted her hip to press into Aloy's, happy to have her here, finally.

"We're just talking shop," Erend dismissed. "Terrible idea, really."

"_Ha, _maybe," Aloy conceded. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about you two. So, erh, Talanah, we'll start with you – how are you holding up?"

"More like holding _on,_" Talanah replied warily.

"Well, _that _sounds no good," Lena jumped in. "Thought things were on the mend out there. What's the problem?"

"Ahsis, the highest ranking assh-..._officer _in my department -" Her eyes flickered slyly with a smirk. "-...he, erh, well, he's being a real pain again. Like a thorn that's wedged in so deep, I can't get it out."

"_Pff,_" scoffed Aloy."Now that _I'm _not around to call him out on his bullshit, I bet he's doubled down on you."

"_Yea, _maybe so," said Talanah, lifting her brows knowingly. "We've got enough problems, but you know _him_."

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry," Aloy mumbled with a sudden bout of sympathy. "You'd think after we dealt with Helis, he'd finally give you some credit."

Helis, Helis...name was awful familiar. _Ah, _right. The wanker who'd set off the whole HADES bit. Proper loon, in the worst way. Aloy had apprehended the bastard herself, way Lena had heard it. Was what had gotten her so many accolades and all that. Well. On top of the rest, anyway.

"_Tch,_" scoffed Talanah with a warm smile, "I think I can _handle _Ahsis. I've dealt with much worse. Don't you worry about _me, _Aloy."

"All right, then, I won't," Aloy replied with an equally glowing, relaxed tone.

"Man," mused Erend, "Crazy, isn't it? To look back. _You _two really rattled up the department in your time, huh? Quite the dynamic duo." He turned to Lena, nodding with raised brows. "Shoulda _seen _them a year ago. Whole department functions differently because of these ladies. Right here." He waggled his finger from Aloy to Talanah, back and forth.

"Made those chauvinistic pricks think twice about underestimating us," Talanah said with a prideful gleam.

"How'd you do that?" Lena wondered.

"Well," said Aloy, "for a start, we took down 'Redmaw.'"

"'Redmaw?'" Lena felt like the name was familiar, but...not a bell rung.

"I didn't tell you about that?" muttered Aloy, aghast with herself as Lena shrugged and shook her head.

"You didn't _tell _her about that?" Talanah repeated, equally surprised. "We were the _talk _of the town after we caught that scumbag. Ahsis was _so _pissed, he'd had his sights set on him for _ages._"

Erend leaned over his side of the table to 'subtley' explain to Lena, "'Redmaw,' see, he was a real sadistic sack o' shit, taking out cops to keep his 'Red Ice' ring afloat."

Alarmed that Aloy had been mixed up in something so dire, Lena's head pulled back slightly, her lips crooked, her eyes wide.

"_Oh,_" she blurted.

"It was all...right before the HADES Incident," Aloy recollected thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "That's probably why it slipped my mind."

"Mmm," Lena nodded, scratching an itch on her arm. "Sounds like Meridian was a whole _mess, _though. A bloody _jungle _out there, how I've heard it."

The trio of them all chuckled, nodded, devolving into wary sighs...Yikes. It had _sounded _bad, all what had gone down in Meridian, but Lena hadn't quite thought it really _was _that bad. Assumed the media were all making a fuss of things.

"It still sort of is a 'bloody mess,'" Erend mumbled, _"Literally._ The Glinthawks haven't loosened their grip on the east side, and with Helis out of the picture, there's squabbling for control. A new shootout every damn _week, _feels like. The north is still getting power back online...With Redmaw out of the picture, the Fireclaws are trying to fill that void." He flicked up his wrist, his eyes losing focus. "The turf war might be over, but...try telling that to _these _pricks..."

"Avad can't keep up with it all," Talanah noted. "He's _trying, _but...-" She trailed off with a frustrated sigh.

"Avad?" Lena asked. "That the Mayor over there?" She remembered getting well acquainted with his face on the news when the HADES Incident was going on.

Aloy nodded, adding, "He's, uh, he's the one who kind of...made sure I got promoted."

"I _think _he figured you'd be sticking around to help with the fallout," said Erend.

"_I _think he thought he had a chance with you," Talanah more slyly pondered.

Aloy's eyes shifted awkwardly, but her cheeks got a bit pink. Bloody hell,seemed like Lena was in good company in the Aloy Appreciation Club, eh?

"You didn't...-" Lena murmured suspiciously at her partner.

Aloy's face wrinkled with disbelieving irritation, just for a flash, and she shook her head wildly.

Ah, OK. Well. Good.

"Well, either way," Aloy blew off the remark, "it made sense at the time – promoting me. People were looking up to me, and...I'd _thought _I might...stay there, continue building what we'd started."

Talanah said with a spark in her eye, nodding to Aloy, "Way things are now? I wish you _had. _No offense, Oxton."

"None taken," said Lena. Nudging Aloy, she cited, "She's _brilliant._"

"Well," said Aloy, "Meridian really took the wind out of me, and I needed to come back home, find my bearings. And, uh-...Heh." Aloy shrugged with a nervous smile, patting Lena on the shoulder. "I'm...kind of needed in Arcadia, anyway."

Lena smiled back and leaned in slightly, rubbing her shoulder against her partner's.

"Oh, _yea,_" said Erend. "Been hearing about those cyber-attacks out here, seem tied to the bombings? The _hell _is up with that? Way Wilhelm says it, Arcadia's crime rates are through the goddamn _roof _this year."

Aloy and Lena both nodded solemnly, shrugging indecisively.

Lena lamented, "Not sure if it's terrorists, a turf war of our _own_, or what." She sighed, lifting her glasses with her wrist as she scratched an inch on her nose. "I just hope it doesn't all go to pot like it did for _you._" She straightened her glasses, mumbling, "Sure _feels _like we're in for a right kerfuffle soon, though, isn't it?"

Erend's eyes narrowed at her, and mumbled facetiously to Aloy, "What language was that in? Can you translate?"

"Cheeky _bligh-__**uh**_," Lena blurted, thickening on an accent for his amusement. Scoffing playfully, she cited, "I _said _I'm worried 'bout the future..."

Pleased with getting her riled up, Erend eased up his palms defensively.

"Well, whatever way you want to say it," Aloy realigned the convo, "it seems like we could be in for a situation as bad as HADES if we don't nip it in the bud."

"It's like trouble just follows you wherever you go," Talanah teased Aloy.

"Ain't _that _the truth?" Erend chuckled.

"Yea," Aloy bashfully agreed, and the trio had a laugh.

"More like _she _follows trouble where _it _goes," said Lena, trying to be a part of the moment. "You lot already _had _her heroic services, now it's _our _turn to have a go with her." She rubbed her hand against Aloy's thigh. But when she turned to look at her partner, she saw a flicker of doubt – of sorrow, of something sad. Whatever she had seen in Aloy back in the car, that same expression.

At this, Lena wriggled her hand to Aloy's, and squeezed it beneath the table. They exchanged looks, and Lena's concern seemed to melt the frost that had been forming over Aloy's expression.

"Like I said," Aloy murmured, "I'm needed over here."

Erend sighed, scoffing out, "_Fff, _lotta good you're probably doing with all that low-level _crap _they must be keeping you stuck in."

"What?" Aloy was a bit irked.

"Ahh," Lena blurted, keen to avoid the subject. "Situation's tense right now. Waiting for the right moment, you know? So they're keeping us proper busy with the humdrum stuff."

"I bet they _are_," said Erend, "_So _busy, in fact, you don't have any opportunities to push your career forward. I _remember _how they treated you ladies back when I was posted here. Anyone who wasn't an Arcadian native got the short end of the stick."

"Eh, it's...-" Lena scratched her neck warily. "It's not quite like that anymore, but...-"

"I haven't exactly been _lighting _Arcadia on fire like I did Meridian," Aloy grumbled with a shrug. "So, I mean...-" She trailed off, then sighed through her nose with that bitterness she'd been wearing so often.

"To be fair," Talanah added her piece, "folks in Meridian seemed eager to set you up for success, whereas...-" Her eyes slid sideways and she shrugged. "I mean, it _does _sound like someone in your department is trying to hold you back."

"Eh," Lena objected cautiously, "Captain Amari's just trying to keep us from getting neck-deep in the muck. Lotta bad stuff going on lately, so...-

"I guess I can't speak on your behalf," said Talanah, "but I've _seen _this woman in action." She tipped her chin to Aloy. "Neck-deep in danger is where she _shines._"

Erend gestured out his hands as he recalled, "Avad gave Chief Morrison a recommendation so glowing you'd swear it was made of...fucking _sunlight_." He let his hands drop to the table. "And yet. _Here _you are." He let his head bob as Aloy took in his look of disappointment. "Running parking tickets, catching speeders, and telling the neighbors to 'keep it down.'"

"_Wh-_...!" Aloy puffed, flustered. "I'm...doing more than _that_, I-"

"Uh, _yea_?" Erend taunted with a sigh. "And yesterday? What'd they have you up to yesterday?"

Lena laughed through her nose, her lips curling with dissatisfaction.

Aloy opened her mouth, but hesitated.

Lena had been on parking tickets, and Aloy had been on speeding tickets.

"Well, _we_...-" Aloy began, treading water. Barely.

"_Yea,_" Erend grunted with a shake of his head. "Nora, you've got _bigger _and _better _things to be doing with your life. _I _know it. _She _knows it," he nodded to Talanah, who agreed, "and I bet _this _one knows it." He thumbed to Lena, who swallowed the tension in her throat, smiling awkwardly as she straightened her glasses.

"I've been-...We've _got _a case we're helping with," Aloy pointed out. "There's just-...We're waiting on...-" She gave up with an irritable sigh. "Well, we can't _talk _about it, anyway, so, just...-"

"I think what Erend is trying to get at," Talanah said, "is that we're a little confused as to how someone who made such a difference over in _our _town suddenly gets treated like just another beat-cop when she comes back home."

"You got a _demotion_," Erend reminded with some disbelief. "Aloy-friggin'-_Nora, _demoted, a month back on the beat. You should be a _Detective - _hell, a _Lieutenant - _after everything you did."

"You saved _lives_," Talanah pointed out.

"I had _help_," Aloy dismissed the accolade-talk. "I was just...reacting to what got thrown in front of me, it...-" She trailed off, crossing her arms. "All I've done since I've come back home is _fuck _everything up, so-...I mean, what do you _expect_?"

Aloy was rubbing at her temple, absorbing the pushy opinions of her past peers.

Lena's insides were boiling with remorse and frustration.

"It's my fault," Lena blurted.

A pause. It grew heavier quite rapidly.

"Aloy's demotion," Lena slowly specified. "It's on account of me."

Lena could feel her eyes getting damp. Her glasses might fog up if she wasn't careful.

"Uh...-" Aloy was a bit speechless, but Lena couldn't look her in the eyes. "Whoa. Lena, _no. _That's...-" Aloy grabbed Lena's hand and squeezed. "No."

That squeeze meant everything.

Lena chuckled nervously, sheepishly, a swell bursting into her chest – relief, embarrassment, fondness.

"Whuh-...?" Erend was baffled. "What's she talkin' about?"

Rubbing at her eyes, Lena realigned her glasses, sighing shakily as she recomposed herself. She held Aloy's strong grip within her own, savoring it.

Aloy's face wrinkled awkwardly, and she shook her head a little.

"I, uh-..." She cleared her throat.

Lena was a bit gobsmacked by Talanah's sly-eyed smirk shot her way. She _knew, _eh?

"Sorry," Lena panted beneath her breath, her head sagging. Wiping at her glasses, she sighed. "Didn't mean to...drag this out, I just...-"

"You're fine," Aloy insisted, smoothing Lena's thigh over beneath the table. "Look, so...-" She tightened her wrists in front of her before letting them drop into her lap. "Captain Amari wasn't satisfied with what I was doing when I first came back. Lena was under my wing and we went in for a narcotics bust – I made a bad call, and th-"  
"I _cocked it all up_," Lena tried to interject.  
"I made a _bad. call,_" Aloy insisted, pushing on. "Caused a whole mess. We had started, uh...-"  
"We were _connecting_," Lena tossed out. "I'd asked her out the night before."

"We hadn't _decided _on anything."

"_I _had," said Lena. "'N I got so distracted by that, the op got buggered. Some Nightwing buggers got away."

"No, that-...A-Anyway, it drew attention to us, and...when Amari found out we were even _thinking _about, like...-" Aloy circled her hands around one another.

Lena concluded, "The Cap'n said Aloy had to take a step down, or we had to stop working together."

Aloy sighed with an acknowledging shrug.

Talanah nodded, tight-lipped. Lena could tell – she'd known already.

Erend, though, lad looked a tad gob-smacked, he did.

"So you took the demotion," Erend realized, aghast.

"Aaand, yea," Lena puffed irritably, not liking the glint of judgment Aloy's friend had as he looked her way. "So, there it is, you can stop badgering her 'bout it now. Blame me for it, get off her case, yea?"

"Huh." Erend's flash of doubt dissolved as he nodded, still staring at Lena. Rubbing his chin with his thumb, his tone quickly turned to approval. "I didn't, erh, mean to kick up dirt over it, but...thanks for explaining it to me." He shot Aloy a glint-eyed nod. "Well, good. You made the call on your own terms. You took something for yourself, for a change. That's good. I'd say you've earned that much."

"Here, here," agreed Talanah.

"Uh, thanks," said Aloy with an uncertain shrug. She pinched at Lena's shoulder, scratching her nails against Lena's back briefly. "And whuh-...So, what about you? Erend?"

"Enh?"

"How are you holding up? Since, uh...what happened with your sister."

Lena sensed a dark fog creep up on the conversation. Were easy enough to feel it with the way Aloy's tone had changed. That look about her – was the same look she had when she talked about her dad.

"Ah," Erend sighed, running a hand across his head. "Well, we're...still a bit torn up over Ersa."

"Mm," Aloy paused thoughtfully. "I'm, uh...sorry, Erend. She was a strong woman."

"That she was," Erend breathed out.

"Her memorial's coming up soon," Talanah raised. "Whole department's gonna pitch in for the Osarams, take _some _kind of weight off their backs."

"Do your parents still...-" Aloy reworked her question after some hesitation. "Are they still being weird about it?"

"Eh, it comes and goes," Erend said. "Can't blame 'em. Some days all the pressure gets to me, and I think about just...quitting, you know? I didn't ask for all of this fallout, all of this crazy shit. But I was the one pushing to rank up, all the same. Ersa told me, when they turned me down for promotion, she told me to go with my gut. If people thought I couldn't do something, that I wasn't good enough, but my gut said they were wrong? That I should _prove_ 'em wrong. Stick with it, you know?"

Talanah's head bobbed up and down in approval.

"I remember she told us that, too," said Aloy, exchanging a glance with Talanah.

"But she also told me to grow up," Erend confessed. "Got to admit, it burned a little when she said it. But I'm trying to take it to heart. And I guess growing up means putting what you _should_ do in front of what you _want _to do...right?"

"You're asking _me?_" Aloy scoffed. She smiled sheepishly at Lena, then shrugged back at Erend."I'm pretty sure you're older."

"Yea, but...I don't _act _like it, do I?" Erend conceded this with a hint of discouragement.

"You did during the Incident," said Aloy. "You did with Helis."

"Don't give me too much credit. Part of me still wants to wait for a quiet moment and wring his neck."

"Yea," Aloy said. "But you won't. Because you're a good Captain."

"Come on, stop..." Erend smiled in a weird way, avoiding everyone's eyes. "You're gonna make me tear up."

"Hey. I know something that ought to lift your spirits," Aloy decided, getting up.

"Oh, yea?" wondered Erend.

Lena got up, herself, sort of on instinct. She watched Aloy and Talanah swap knowing looks.

Talanah replied, "She's gonna track down that damn photo of you winning the eating challenge."

Erend chuckled, tapping his palm against the table.

"Ah, _yehp. _That _would _help me feel a bit better, wouldn't it?"

Aloy headed across the restaurant to the photo wall.

"So," Talanah put out, holding Lena up. "You really been beating yourself up over that, huh?"

"Eh?" Lena felt her face getting hot. She awkwardly hovered over the table.

"Look," Talanah smiled slyly, though with a certain warmth about her. Arms crossed, she leaned back in her seat, looking up at Lena. "Take it from someone who's hooked up with her before." She bobbed her head off toward Aloy. "Nora? When she sets her mind to something, she follows up. Every time. No two ways about it, Oxton – if she took a demotion just to be with you, she did it because she wanted to. Period."

Lena shrugged up one shoulder, glancing off at her girlfriend, who was perusing the photos pinned to the bulletin board.

"Ah," Lena grunted, running a finger across an itch on her cheekbone. Realigning her glasses, she sighed. "Only she doesn't seem too _happy _about it, is all."

"Well, ya know," Erend gestured a wrist up, nodding. "Nora's got a lot of pressure on her these days."

"Most of it self-inflicted," Talanah raised.

"Yea," agreed Erend. "Probably feels guilty about having one damn slice of happiness in this world, just because everything's not perfect. Just how she gets."

"We'd tell you to watch her back," said Talanah. "Keep her safe."

"_Ha_," belted Erend. "But we _all _know she's gonna do that for _you_, so...-"

Lena nodded, smiling a bit awkwardly. This was a bit odd, and all, wasn't it? Cops and _dating _and...-

"Erh, thanks, you lot. I'm, uh-...Gonna go check on her, then," said Lena, receiving confirmation nods as she whirled round.

Aloy was still transfixed on the photo wall. She'd unpinned a picture from the board and took a snap of it with her phone. Her mannerisms were oddly shaky, though.

"Oi," Lena said quietly, coming round to her side. "What's up, A?"

"It's_ her_," Aloy whispered, her tone incredulous. Wide eyed and a bit frantic, she flipped the photo to Lena, specifying, "Our missing girl."

Lena was flabbergasted at the idea. She murmured a confused, "_What_?" as she studied the picture.

A young woman, thin-faced and gaunt, with her hair matted into a ponytail of greasy braids. Intense eyes – frighteningly so – were surrounded by...ketchup, maybe? It was like she had taken ketchup and plastered her face with it, a faux-war-paint of sorts. A mask of it were caked across her eyes and forehead, and a strip painted vertically down her tall chin. She had on a ragged denim vest, stained and tattered, and her muscular arms had various tattoos of blue ink etched across them.

She looked worse for wear in a sense, yet energetic and very alive in another, glowering at the camera with an almost sadistic grin.

Bloody hell, though, it really _was _the missing girl from their case, wasn't it?

"_Blimey_," Lena sighed out, a bit dazed.

And she wasn't alone in the photo, either. To her side, another was with her.

A pale-skinned girl with a bird's nest of bushy, straw-like hair – gray in color. A gangly sort, she had child-like features with big bright eyes – veiled behind a pair of red-tinted glasses. She was wearing a very messy, loose top, leaving her black sports bra visible, as were many tattoos, scattered across her arms and clavicles.

While the other photos on the wall had names written in pen or marker, this Polaroid was a bit odd – it had, what, some _runes, _or some such?

Aloy couldn't understand what it meant...

"The back," Aloy grunted, flicking her finger at the corner of the photo.

Lena flipped it around.

There was also a scribbled drawing of a pentagram, and a bunch of...seemingly random names scribbled, and crossed out, all ending with '-ae'.

But there was one, in the middle of the pentagram, written in a much messier handwriting. Wasn't crossed out, either.

**_{ B A E }_**

Lena and Aloy exchanged shocked expressions at all this.

"Heh, you find _me _on there?" Erend chuckled, sauntering over. "They get my good side?"

Aloy grabbed the photo from Lena's hands, whisking right past Erend, straight for the counter.

"Whoa, what...-?" Erend was lost.

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" Aloy called out to the worker, who was somewhere in the back, prepping food. "Ma'am? _Hello?_"

The worker, chatting on her headset – to a drive-in customer, likely – stuck up a finger at Aloy, signalling that she needed a moment.

Aloy sighed impatiently, slapping the photo down on the counter and running her hand through her hair. Lena approached, nudging by Erend as she did so.

"Thought you ladies didn't care about this thing," Erend murmured, following up behind them.

"What's going on?" Talanah questioned as she arrived at the counter, as well.

Her boot tapping against the tile floor, Aloy pinned the photograph with her index finger, sliding it across the way toward her friend.

"It's _her_," Aloy cited plainly – trying to keep her voice down.

Talanah took a moment to study the picture, though she had no context.

Lena leaned over, whispering, "'S our missing _girl, _it is. No doubt."

"Wait, _seriously_?" Erend grunted, shoving his way in to look. "_Whoa, _that-...She-...She likes to, erh, play with her food, I guess, huh?"

Aloy shushed him as the store worker approached, asking, "Did you...need something?"

Aloy clapped her hand down on the picture, rotating it, then pointed rigidly at it.

"Do you know these girls? When was this photo taken?"

The worker was startled by Aloy's tone. Fidgeting with her visor, she warily glanced down, shrugging and shaking her head.

"We don't...really keep a _record _for...that sort of thing, it...-"  
"Surveillance?" Aloy interjected, cutting to the chase. "You have surveillance, right?"

"Sh-Sure, but I don't-...I can't give you access to that without...-"

Aloy pulled out her badge from inside her coat and presented it.

The worker's brows popped up and she shrugged, taking a step back.

"I still can't-...Y-You'll have to come back tomorrow when my manager is here, and...-"

"Is anyone else back there?" Aloy grunted, waggling the photo at the worker. "Do you have a supervisor I can talk to, or...-?"

"I _am_ the acting supervisor tonight," said the woman shakily.

"C'mon, A..." Lena murmured, tugging at Aloy's bicep to get the woman to back down a bit.

Aloy pressed, "Can you see if _anyone_ else here recognizes either of these girls? Knows when they were here?"

Poor worker behind the counter looked like she'd piss her trousers.

"Aloy," Lena sighed, tightening her grip on Aloy's arm.

Aloy seemed to snap out of her rabid little chase and took a deep breath, setting the photo back down on the counter.

"Sorry, there, Ma'am," said Lena warily. "We'll sort it out with the manager tomorrow. When'll they be round, you think?"

"Should be...here by noon," said the worker.

"Can we hold onto this?" Aloy asked, pawing at the photo.

The worker shrugged, wide eyed.

"Sh-sure, I guess that's...fine."

"Thanks," Aloy said, nodding as she stuffed the photo back in her back pocket.

"Uh," Lena blurted, lifting a dainty index to the worker. "You lot aren't in trouble, by the way. We're just...looking for someone who was here."

The worker still looked kinda petrified, but nodded, polite like.

"Thanks, Luv," said Lena, offering a sympathetic smile as a new pair of customers entered the shop.

The group went back to their table, and while Aloy's old partners seemed hungry enough, Aloy was flipping around on her phone frantically. Was making Lena uneasy.

"Lose your appetite?" Talanah prodded at them.

Lena went and nudged Aloy's thigh with her wrist, beneath the table.

"Mm?" Aloy hummed, tilting her head a bit while her eyes and fingers remained on her phone. Was looking some stuff up – work stuff. _Gah._

"She's trying to do work now, isn't she?" Erend dryly theorized.

Lena smiled sheepishly and shrugged. She patted at Aloy's thigh again.

"What?" Aloy mumbled, blinking as she woke from her 'work-trance.' Setting her phone face down on the table, she wiped her hand across her face, through her hair, and sighed. "Sorry. Old habits..."

Lena watched Talanah and Erend swap a look, and she felt like she could've joined them had they swapped with _her._

"I, uh..._really _want to solve this case," Aloy confessed. "This girl is getting ignored, just because of her background, and it...-" Aloy's hand, on the table, balled into a fist before unclenching and laying beside her tray.

"We get it, Luv," Lena assured, giving Aloy's leg a brisk, encouraging rub.

"And, I mean," Aloy took an unsteady breath, avoiding everyone's gazes. "If I want to get to the bottom of _whatever _my mother was up to? I'm gonna need to be better than a fucking _beat-cop._"

"You _are_," Erend puffed, dismissing her deprecation. "Why the hell does Amari have you working a missing person's case when you're not even Detective?"

"With the terrorist attacks going on," Aloy sighed, shaking her head, "Amari's got all hands on deck right now."

"Honestly," Lena sighed, "I think she's more interested in us digging up info on the group what we think took her."

"_Took _her?" Talanah wondered.

Lena nodded, and Aloy shrugged, shaking her head a little.

"We shouldn't get into this," Aloy said, shooting Lena a disapproving glance. Yea, yea, 'protocol' and all that... Aloy concluded, "I feel like we're being underestimated. Whatever my mother got mixed up in, it's...higher clearance, and...if I can prove I can be objective, and...if...-"

"You want them to regret looking down on you?" said Talanah. "Then speak to them in _their_ language."

"Like, how?" Aloy sighed, getting more flustered the longer she thought on all this. Aloy was better at focusing on stuff right in front of her, not...so much with the long term stuff. And figuring out why her mom was put in an asylum? Long term stuff.

"Do the work," Talanah said simply, shrugging up a shoulder slightly. "Solve cases, get shit done, get it done faster, better."

Aloy made a weird, wary gesture and shook her head a bit.

"It feels like I'm flying a bit blind lately," Aloy confessed. "It was a _coincidence _we even found that photo."

"You found it because you keep your _eyes _sharp," insisted Talanah, and Erend was nodding in agreement. "Half of our fucking jobs is being able to catch shit because we keep our eyes peeled."

"I don't know," Aloy grumbled bitterly, staring down at her unfinished meal.

"You don't need me to hold your hand anymore, Aloy," Talanah insisted, losing a bit of her patience. "This, like...-" She wrinkled her expression with some distaste. "_-...whatever _this side of you is? It ain't Nora."

Lena nodded, squeezing Aloy's leg some more.

"You've got this," Lena assured. "I'll do whatever I can to help you get there."

Aloy paused, absorbing Lena's warm gaze. She tried to blast some positive vibes, but couldn't tell how well it went over.

"Uh," Aloy scooped up her phone, putting it in her pocket. "Look, I'm sorry, guys, I-..." She got up from her seat, grabbing her tray.

"I know," Erend sighed, nodding with a solemn smile. "You've gotta go. Criminals to track, cases to solve...all before breakfast."

"O-Oh, erh-...?" Lena grabbed one last bite of her food, following Lena's lead.

After dumping their trash, Aloy and Lena approached the table before heading out.

"I'm _so _sorry," Aloy grumbled, flustered. "I meant for this to...go differently, but this, it's too important to-...Sorry."

"Hey, whoa, _whoa. _It's fine, Aloy. I was lucky to get a minute of your time," said Erend with a twinkle of admiration. "Try not to forget about us while you're out there changing Arcadia."

"I'll always have a minute for you," Aloy insisted. "Both of you," she added, glancing to Talanah. With a cute little smile, she said, "Maybe even _two_ minutes. One for each."

"I've gotta split time with _this _clown?" Talanah teased, giving Erend a shove.

The trio of them chuckled, and Lena felt a bit lost again. Out of her depth. Suffocating on that same bloody feeling she was trying to keep her head over.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_Sex Bob-Omb originates from __**Scott Pilgrim vs the World **__(Bryan Lee O'Malley, Ubisoft)  
Undyne and Papyrus originate from __**Undertale **__(toby fox)  
Erend and Talanah originate from__**Horizon: Zero Dawn **__(Guerrilla Games)__  
_


	5. Episode 5

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)

**Episode 6**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

After wiping the last traces of eye shadow from her face, Olivia breathed out a deep sigh of relief. Finally. A day _off _ with the boss' _mess _and setting up what she feared would be a _new _mess? That _she _would end up stuck helping to clean up? The previous week had _not_ been pleasant. Operation Valkyrie had _quickly _become a real fucking mess, frankly. Project Rán..._Whatever _the hell it was, this _new _insane crap they'd pulled out of their asses? Olivia _did not _have much faith in it. Felt kinda bad for the poor girl they were getting involved, but...greater ends, smaller means...She didn't have much of a choice, given what was at stake.

At last, though, Liv could unwind. Relax. Let all of this _shit _just drift away for a wh-  
"-could start pulling your fucking _weight _in these team fights, _maybe _we could-"  
Aaaand it was already ruined.  
"-pull this _shit-show _around! 아우, 짜증 나..."

Olivia sometimes regretted her living arrangements. Arcadia was an expensive city to live in, and while Olivia's work had _many _benefits, pay-grade was..._not _one of them. So, she'd ended up splitting an apartment with a, erm, _colleague. _Hell, Liv might dare to call them 'friends' on good days. Similar enough interests, and when they weren't annoying the shit out of each other, it was a good thing they had going.

But Hana Song? Olivia's roommate?

"아, 열받네!"

Well. She was, eh, _not _living her glory days anymore. Once a cop-in-training, then a flunked-out gaming addict, _then _an e-sports celeb, then a brief flash-in-the-pan run as a pop singer, now just...sort of a...well, streamer. As in, she live-streamed herself playing video games online. Like a job? The e-sports career had propelled her into the public spotlight, especially with the combo of her looks, crowd-pleasing attitude, and skill at adapting to the digital battlefield. Hana had gotten quite a following – enough to help keep her going even when everything had gone to shit.

Turned out, being a loud, rude, offensive moron when you were angry – and had a short temper – did not mix well with the public image of a sport.

So, here Hana Song was, living off of royalties from the _one _album she had released (which Olivia _knew _for a fact she had barely even _composed_), expenses supplemented by her live-streaming revenue.

Binging on Nano Cola and nacho chips on the weekends, working out weekday mornings to maintain a visually appealing figure...fucking A. Not the sort of life Olivia could lead.

But Hana seemed to have found some kind of weird peace with it, and if she was happy enough? Enh, who was Olivia to judge, really?

"거기 꺼져! A_ha_ha~ _Geeeeeee __**GEE!**_"  
A guzzle from her green bottle of carbonated sugar, a crunch from the fistful of cheese-dusted chips, all while clicking her mouse with a frenzy.

Ah. Yep. Olivia still kinda judged.

"_-yarp! yarp!-_"

Olivia was startled upon exiting the bathroom, caught up in Hana's game-talk, that she'd almost tripped over their dog.

"_Gah-!_" Liv fumbled her feet around the pup, who didn't seem to know where to go, making it trickier to Liv to find her footing. She nearly toppled into a glass display shelf holding all of Hana's figurines and shit.

"_-rrrr__**uff**__!_-"

"Yea, yea," Olivia sighed to the eager little monster, who was all..._wanting _something from her. Like dogs always did. Whose idea was it to get a dog, again? (_Hana's, of course_) Olivia shambled her aching self over to their tiled kitchen and surveyed the designated spot for the dog's dishes.

Food bowl was empty. Water was, too.

"Damnit," Olvia grumbled. Glaring down at the pup, who was clawing at her ankles, Olvia nudged the dog off.

"_-yarp-yarp!-_"

When Olivia went to go for food, the dog went darting off for the apartment door, yelping and even wincing a little.

_Ffffffucking A._

"Hana," Olivia sighed, palmed her face tiredly. "Your dog needs to go out...""젠장...! Why'd you _pop it early?!_" Buuuut Hana was all wrapped up in her gaming. Great.

"_Hana_," Olivia sharply called, marching up to her roommate's side, staying out of the webcam's view.

Hana gave her a sideways look, irritated and confused, hastily peeling one headphone off her ear.

"Your _dog,_" groaned Liv.

"_Aghhh_," Hana groaned with impatience. "Can't you take care of it, Liv? _Pleeaase~?_"  
"But-"  
"If we lose this I'm gonna be put back in Gold and I am _not _going back to Gold."  
"Thought you were in Diamond."  
"I _was, _but today has been _horrible._"  
"...Uh-huh."  
"_Thank you~_"

Why bother even asking when Olivia knew how that was going to go? _Urgh._

"_-rrrOWF_-"

"Yea, yea, I _hear _you..." Olivia waddled over to the doorway, noting the scratch marks by the bottom of the door. Maybe if _someone _had spent time _training _their dog to behave better...

Olivia grabbed the leash hanging on the door's coat rack and bent over, looping it through the pup's collar. The dog got _pretty _damn excited now that it realized relief was moments away. At least she knew to hold it in until they were out. Getting to _that _pointhad been some fun, believe that...

Hana blurted out with a snicker, "Hey, Livia! Chat says those pants look good on your ass."

Olivia could feel her expression wither distastefully, and realized the moment in which she had just lazily bent over had probably just been recorded by horny randos. Cool. Yea. _Ugh._

She flipped the middle finger off at the webcam across the room, sliding into her sandals. Hana giggled at something a couple seconds later – probably her 'chat.'

As the dog licked at Olivia's fingers, she sighed warily, but couldn't deny the enthusiastic pup's affection. Damnit. She wiped slobber off on her sweatpants.

"_Yea, _outside time, 'Risa," Olivia sighed to the dog, petting her on the head with a little ear-scratching for good measure. Panting and tail wagging, whole deal.

"_-YARP-_"  
_Ow. _Right in her ear.

Barely containing yet another sigh, Olivia scratched at her stomach and headed out, gripping the leash and letting the mangy little monster attempt to choke itself trying to run down the hallway to the elevator.

Orisa was an English Bulldog, and a pretty damned happy one for what an irresponsible owner she had. Adopted at a young age from someone who _had _been training her (some kind of complications, couldn't keep the dog), Orisa had been developing some...sub-optimal habits flying under the gaming gremlin's wing.

But. Not Olivia's circus, not her monkeys. Dogs. Whatever. At least it was short-haired and didn't mind getting regular baths.

Riding the elevator down, Olivia checked her phone.

Shit. Her boss. Well, _one _of her bosses. Texting in code, too.

( From: Makise )  
( How are you enjoying the book I lent you? )-

-( Almost finished with it. You need it back soon? )

( I do, yes. Maybe you can drop it off at the office tomorrow? )-

Olivia's face wrinkled with frustration. How was she supposed to get that to work on such short notice? And _why _were they in such a hurry when Valkyrie was _far _from a closed case?

-( Uh, that early? Really? )

( Really. I'm sure you can finish it tonight. )-  
( You're a fast reader, aren't you? :) )-  
_Urghhh._

-( LOL. Yea, guess I am. If you really need it... )

( It'd be appreciated. )-

-( See you tomorrow, then. )

( Tomorrow. )-

Olivia's grip on her phone tightened before she irritably shoved it into her pocket.

She was supposed to have _the day off._ And now one of the fucking _head honchos _was telling her to get the subject rushed in? The one she'd _just _started things with not even a week ago? She was definitely going to need to pull some strings to get this Alex girl to come in...

As the elevator finally reached the ground floor and opened, Orisa tugged forward, jarring Olivia from her jaw-clenching thoughts. The chunky pup struggled against Olivia's flexing grasp on the leash, which she looped around her wrist – she wasn't going to let this untamed little creature think it was in control.

Letting the pup lead them outside, Olivia managed to direct her to a patch of dirt beneath a tree planted on the street. As the dog took a leak against the tree trunk, Liv's hip was jittered by her phone. Withdrawing the phone from her sweatpants, she feared the worst, and was thus pleasantly surprised by the e-mail she'd received. There was always an exciting tingle in her stomach whenever she saw that person's name, emboldened at the top of her inbox.

[ From: Satya Vaswani ]

That genius engineer had finally replied to that e-mail she'd sent the other day. Olivia had of course done what hacking she could into this lady's life, and had pleasantly found little dirt to dig up, at least on the surface. Pleasantly because it meant that whoever she was, she likely kept the good stuff hidden well. Liv had even caught herself watching a stupid panel online that Miss Vaswani here had done a year or so back regarding her participation in some serious AI programming for Cyberlife. Apparently she had access to some pretty hefty tech up north in Cloudbank, the city that put her on the map. That place felt like it was in quite the uproar recently. Every month its political zoo had a whole new herd of animals prancing around. But what had really caught Olivia's attention was, oddly, the woman's fingers. There was something special about them, or maybe it was just something Olivia was fetishizing. The flow of Vaswani's fingertips, whether in keystrokes or gestures as she spoke, was hypnotizing in a way Olivia had not experienced in a long time.

Shaking off the distracting thoughts, Olivia read the e-mail.

[ Hello, ]

[ You perform your function admirably. Yes, we're meeting with the mayor this afternoon regarding this expansion, and intend to initiate our first major project as soon as next week. As such, we will require your continued cooperation with Ms. Armas with regard to preparing the necessary software. It has come to my attention that there exist certain tensions between our organizations despite our similar goals. In response to this development, it would be ill-advised to speak of this contract job outside of your supervisors. Despite my reservations, I confess I am intrigued by the technology you have described. ]

[ In either case, the path before us is clear. ]

[ If everyone performs their function, victory is assured. ]

[ **"**_The true enemy of humanity is disorder."_]  
[ **Satya Vaswani** ]  
[ Aperture Science Division Lead Engineer ]

Hm. Interesting. Olivia hadn't expected plans to escalate so quickly. That might put some wrinkles in her side-activities...She'd have to touch base with her crew later. But Makise's request had to come first. If things went amiss or slowed down with her work at FutureGadget, everything else could come tumbling down, rending all of her networking as useless.

As Orisa finished her business at the tree, Olivia reluctantly fired off a text.

\- ( To: Alex )  
\- ( Hola, chula. ;) )  
\- ( What are you up to tonight? )

She received a reply before she was even back in the apartment building.

( Oh hey! ) -  
( Not doing much, tbh. You? ) -

Heading into the elevator, Olivia briefly considered just..._not _doing this. You know? Telling Makise off. This shit was unreasonable, after all. By the time her elevator had reached her floor, however, she knew how much more efficiently everything would go if she could just get this girl to show up, and get the lab's newest project rolling. Especially if Zaibatsu was ramping things up on their end, it wouldn't be good for FutureGadget to fall behind. _Fuck, _why did things always have to lean on her pulling the strings in the background?

So, Olivia did what she really did not want to do.

\- ( Was thinking of hitting up Valhalla in an hour. )  
\- ( Been a long day at work, wanted to get plastered. )  
\- ( Some help would be appreciated. ;) )

Slogging herself along as Orisa eagerly yanked her back toward their apartment, Olivia rubbed at her tired eyes. She wasn't lying, technically, about wanting to get plastered. Upon re-entry, Liv was also reminded that an evening at home wasn't going to be a peaceful one.

**"**쪼렙, 쪼렙, 쪼렙! **Oooogghhhh…!****"**

De-leashing Orisa, Olivia scratched the poor pup behind the ears a little before sending her off to her chew toys. She got her fated response as she headed for her bedroom.

( Isn't it kind of early for drinks? ) -

\- ( Bar's gonna be open. It's never too early for drinks. )

( It's just that I've got a thing later today, but ) -  
( Actually yea! Let's do it! ) -  
( I'll meet you there? ) -

After pausing to tiredly wipe her hand down her face, Liv answered.

\- ( You better. ;D )

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"Um...Sir?"

No response. Just the scratching of a pen against paper.

_-scritchhiscrtchh...scff-scff-sct...-_

Isabelle drummed her fingers nervously against the edge of the office door. She creaked it open, waddled in hesitantly, and sighed.

She followed up, "Mr. Asgore? Sir?"

The Mayor let out a grunt of indifference, rubbed his nose with his thumb, and kept scribbling at his papers. Not even a glance her way.

Rocking on her heels impatiently, Isabelle waited a few seconds. Still nothing. Was he working on those acquisition forms she'd advised him about _five hours ago? _Yeesh...

Isabelle lifted her digital slate to double-check, and sure enough, they had an appointment in ten minutes, with representatives from Zaibatsu, over in the Fils-Aime conference room.

"Mayor," Isabelle spat tiredly, scratching at an itch on her eyebrow. Straightening her bangs out, she sighed audibly when she received no reply. "Mr. Asgore. **Sir.**"

"Mm, _mmph, _yes?" Asgore clawed a wrinkled hand up across his face, shoving his reading glasses around.

"Have you forgotten our four-o'-clock?"

"What's that? Hm? Enh?" The Mayor was mumbling. He had _totally _forgotten...

"We have a meeting in…-" Isabelle checked the time. "-...three minutes. With Mr. Ogundimu and Ms. Vaswani?"

"Oh?" Asgore paused, gawking at her. He re-aligned his reading glasses.

"Akande Ogundimu," Isabelle re-iterated. She _knew _he had to remember _that _man, at the least.

"**Ahh**, haha, yes, yes, right." Asgore began shoving his work aside, hastily reaching for his coat and cane from an ornamental rack behind his desk. "That's _today, _is it_?_"

"**Yes, **Sir," Isabelle confirmed, her irritation slipping through a little. "In a few minutes. So…-"

"Let's not keep the man waiting, then," Asgore puffed, shuffling into his coat and scrambling for the door. "He doesn't like being left to wait," he added shakily, nearly toppling Isabelle into filing cabinets as he thumped his way past.

Scampering behind him, Isabelle had to correct his direction when he took a left when right was needed – she did so via a nudge against his hip and a tug at his sleeve.

They reached the conference room, the door already open. Ms. Vaswani was in the doorway, awaiting them. Greetings were exchanged.

"Hello, there."  
"Hello."  
"Hi."  
"Yes, yes, good afternoon."

Mr. Asgore tipped his hat a little, resting on his cane squarely before the entrance.

"Well. Here we are," he blurted in an exhaling breath. "Shall we get to business?" He made his way into the conference room. Isabelle followed, surprised to see that no one else was present aside from Mr. Ogundimu and Ms. Vaswani. Most curious...

She'd been expecting assistants of theirs, at the least, given the purpose of the meeting - arrangements and discussion regarding an expansion collaboration between Zaibatsu and FutureGadget within Arcadia. Essentially, Vishkar Corporation, a subsidiary of Zaibatsu, wanted to bring their own research branch - Aperture Science - into Arcadia in cooperation with FutureGadget Labs, with Ms. Vaswani overseeing things. Miss Makise of FutureGadget had already approved the proper paperwork, but had not even graced City Hall with her presence. And now, here, only the bare minimum personnel was present.

Isabelle had her questions and doubts regarding this arrangement, however, which she fully intended to bring up. For starters, she didn't see the purpose in flooding the city with yet _another _research entity, in the same part of town, no less. Arcadia was developing a poor reputation for being too enamored in its Transistor Valley culture that it was causing more harm than good to the local population. Surely, continuing to doggedly expand such technological pursuits could have some negative repercussions on the environment without the proper precautions. Isabelle had some ideas regarding regulation in this respect.

It was startling and offensive to her, then, when Ms. Vaswani barred her from taking a seat.

"Excuse me," Vaswani said, looking down at Isabelle. "We require only the Mayor's presence at this meeting."

Great Goddess Nayru, Isabelle thought, this Vaswani woman was an intimidating force. She had the right clothes, style, expression, posturing – everything needed to command a professional business space...Isabelle often drowned in jealousy in her presence.

"O-Oh," Isabelle stammered out when the room looked at her. "Um, well, it's...crucial that I attend all meetings with Mr. Asgore," she attempted, taking a step inward - Ms. Vaswani's stare turned even icier. Swallowing a nervous lump in her throat, Isabelle added, "He's...quite awful with notes, and his memory is…-"

Asgore and Akande were speaking silently into each other's shoulders across the room.

Mr. Ogundimu, broad-shouldered and square-jawed, glowered at her from his seat across the table. His white suit and golden tie were sharp, though not as much so as the look in his eyes.

Isabelle shot Asgore an indignant glance, to which he shakily smiled back. As if this was all fine. _Something _was obviously amiss, here, why wouldn't he want her there?

"It's fine, Isabelle," Asgore assured, his voice cracking slightly. He flitted his wrist toward her, beckoning her to exit. _What?_

"If you would leave us," Ms. Vaswani advised, giving Isabelle a prim press against her shoulders. "There is still much to be done."

"O-Of course," Isabelle mumbled, embarrassed by all this. "It's just that…-" What was going on? This meeting didn't seem...quite above board.

At the door, Ms. Vaswani coldly taunted into Isabelle's ear, "This is the order of things."

The door being shut against her hip on the way our, Isabelle was befuddled by what had just happened. Her curiosity wanted to know what this was all about - but if things Mr. Asgore had implied to her were to be believed, she might be safer not knowing.

Concerning. This, um, _hm. _This was all very concerning...

Seating herself at a bench down the hall, Isabelle sighed longingly as that November cover of Chrono Magazine taunted her - a flashy photo of Mayor Pauline of New Donk fame, all dolled up for some holiday gala concert _thing_ she was hosting for the city. Man...

Isabelle caught herself day-dreaming about some theoretical future where _she _could be a Mayor, and how she might go about things. Certainly not dressing up all fancy and _singing, _but…she'd do a lot of good, for sure. She just needed the opportunity. Or maybe she'd just...fumble it up, huh? Hm. The longer she thought on it, the less certain she became.

Her phone hummed, waking her from her power fantasy.

Oh! It was from Toriel, replying to her prior request for a coffee date.

( Yes, thank you. I've been a bit busier as a result, but it is quite rewarding. )-  
( And I suppose I would be willing to meet you in a social sense. )-  
( As long as HE isn't there… )-  
( And as long as you don't mind the young one tagging along. )-

She responded, her feet rocking slightly from the bench she sat on.

-( Of course! I'd love to meet them. )  
-( And no, just us. )  
-( How does 5pm at the Roost sound? )

Confirming this social appointment, Isabelle re-reviewed what else she had to take care of for the day. Nothing major once this meeting was concluded. She'd doubled-down that morning to free up her afternoon, anticipating whatever this meeting might entail, which she had assumed would be a _lot._ And yet, here she was...uselessly bumbling about with nothing to do. After the exhausting week she'd endured, that _should've _been solace, yet it was not.

Before she knew it, the trio was on their way out of the meeting, heading her way, toward City Hall's entrance.

Isabelle made to look busy on her tablet, but listened in, the marble acoustics aiding her already astute hearing.

". . … …. . .. . . . .-not being too hasty?"

Mr. Ogundimu belted out a laugh which rattled the hall, "I'm not even _close _to done."

"I, erm, I see," Mr. Asgore murmured.

Footsteps clacking against the cold, stone floor filled the tense air for a moment.

The Mayor followed up, "It's just-...You must understand, well, with...everything _else_...going on right now, and-and the known..._tensions _thatZaibatsu and FutureGadget seem to, erm, encounter with one another-...Well…-" Asgore sighed worriedly. "I'm sure you can understand my hesitation?"

Having already passed Isabelle by, they reached the entrance lobby. Isabelle had risen up and followed them, though she had been keeping her distance until now.

The Mayor fumbled out his conclusion. "I...simply worry that introducing such a drastic change so suddenly might...create _conflict _within Arcadia's...already unstable landscape."

Mr. Ogundimu huffed a quiet laugh through his nostrils, turning to his old comrade and administering a firm squeeze against the Mayor's shoulder with his enormous hand.

The hulk of a man replied, "Conflict, you say? Only through conflict do we _evolve_."

After an amused laugh, Ms. Vaswani primly corrected, "Sir, you are mistaken. Only with _order _can humanity evolve."

Ogundimu shrugged one shoulder and rotated a dismissive wrist, simply saying, "Order, chaos...Means to an end."

A heavy silence hung them up.

"...Ah," Mr. Asgore weakly whisped out, fumbling his hands on the tip of his cane. "W-Well, I'm sure this will...be a boon for everyone involved, so long as we...tread carefully."

Hesitant before the trio, Isabelle lifted up her tablet's pen toward them.

"P-Pardon me, but...have you finished the meeting? Already? So soon?"

"Indeed," Ms. Vaswani answered, her voice soft and light but her eyes sharp and dark. "We have."

"O-Oh, I…-" Isabelle tapped her pen nervously against her touchscreen, absorbing the woman's stare. "Isn't there...paperwork we have yet to review? And the documentation to present to the council, that-"

Isabelle was grasped on the shoulder by Ms. Vaswani's left hand - a shudder went up through her spine at the contact. Her skin was soft, was Vaswani's grip was _not._

As Mr. Ogundimu and the Mayor casually arranged social plans in the background, Isabelle was left with the frigid glare of Ms. Vaswani.

"Your assistance is not needed," Vaswani told her, politely enough. "Everything is already taken care of."

A couple of cold seconds passed before Isabelle piped up - meekly - "But...surely I should still review the architectural plans proposed before any final-..._ow._"

Vaswani's hand pinched hard on Isabelle's shoulder.

"I don't think so," Vaswani stated. "None of this concerns you."

Isabelle could feel her eyes welling up with tears of sheer embarrassment.

"But…-" she began, only to be cut off when Ms. Vaswani leaned her head up close.

Words were testily whispered into Isabelle's ear.

"Know your _place_."

A slight shove and Isabelle was stumbled backward a bit. As she regained her footing, she watched Mr. Ogundimu and the Mayor shake hands. It could've been her imagination, or the stress, but she _swore _Mr. Asgore tried to break the handshake, only to be held firm in Ogundimu's massive fist as a smug smile concealed what Isabelle felt were awful intentions.

"Yeh-_yes, _well!" Mr. Asgore spat. "It's...good to finally meet with you again, Akande. And how is old Volfred doing these days? He never seems to get out much anymore."

"Ah, Sandalwood?" Ogundimu reflected. "Stiff as a board, like always, that old sap." The two men chuckled softly. Ogundimu added, "But he tells me he is rather pleased with how this is all going. Perhaps I could...put in a good word with him? See if he wishes to come into the fold for this social gathering?"

"It _has_ been too long," Asgore sighed, a nostalgic glisten spilling over him. "I suppose he's even busier than I am these days, nnh? Well. He seems to have put his trust in, erm, good hands with you, Sir. I, erh, look forward to...seeing what your efforts can bring to Arcadia's...erh, economy."

Mr. Ogundimu slapped his opposing palm against their interlocked wrists and responded with a jolly grin, "Oh, I'm just getting started."

Their contact finally broke. Isabelle was trying to read Ms. Vaswani after that startling encounter. Her legs felt like jello, her stomach upside-down, her cheeks on fire. But Vaswani was cool and collected, as usual.

Vaswani wrapped things up by offering, "If you or anyone on the council have any pressing inquiries, do not hesitate to contact me." She wasn't even acknowledging Isabelle's presence now.

"Will do," Mr. Asgore replied, trying to save face - though it was obvious that his chain was being yanked around.

"Then we have concluded our business for now," said Vaswani.

"Good day," said Mr. Ogundimu.

"Farewell," said Ms. Vaswani.

"Bye!" said the Mayor, gesturing up a hand as he hunched over his cane.

Isabelle gawked warily as the two intimidating figures left City Hall.

As they passed outside, Asgore let a heavy breath slide out of his mouth.

"What...just _happened_?" Isabelle demanded quietly.

Mr. Asgore turned round, toward their office. He sighed. That was it. Just a sigh and a shake of his head before continuing along, ignoring her question outright.

Once again, Isabelle wasn't going to get an answer. And if she pressed for one, she knew exactly what the inevitable reply would be.

'_You're better off not knowing.'_

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

The child waddled across the gentle cafe with care, balancing two tall cups of coffee – one in each hand. Isabelle could tell that the child's trajectory was going to intersect a surly pair of gentleman in suits rushing out of the cafe, eyes on their phones. Isabelle rose from her seat, extending a nervous hand, but to her surprise, the child seemed to intuit the impending spill just in time, deftly swerving and spinning around the slickly-dressed men, all the while keeping the coffee safe somehow.

"My child is...surprisingly adept at taking care of themselves," murmured Ms. Toriel from across the table.

Isabelle was a bit confused, though: "Selves?"

"Oh?" Toriel shuffled wrinkled fingers through her white bangs, adjusting them to fold around her glasses. "Ah, them, they – in the singular sense, I mean. Of course."

"Mm." Isabelle nodded thoughtfully at this. She knew individuals much older who had taken on a non-binary identity, but Frisk was the youngest by far she had ever been acquainted with. It was intriguing to consider how so many of these seemingly 'radical' ideas were taken without question by children – not out of ignorance, but plain, unfiltered understanding. It sort of reminded her of the quaint little seaside burg she'd originated from.

Frisk reached their table, setting the two cups down with delicate care. When they caught Isabelle's gaze, they smiled bashfully, shrinking back toward their seat beside Toriel. Isabelle couldn't help but stare for a moment. The kid was adorable, and something about them just attracted attention. Maybe a maternal instinct? Hm. Their silence probably played into it, as well as that...strange, mysterious sense of a tragic past?

"Frisk, right?" Isabelle checked. "That's your name?"

Frisk, twiddling their fingers together as they scooted their seat up, nodded. Ha, the kid had to lean up straight to project themselves over the table.

"That's...an interesting name," Isabelle observed, pondering how the child had received it.

Toriel took a sip of her coffee, scratching Frisk's shoulder in the cutest way.

"It's the name they chose for themselves," Toriel explained.

"Ah. I see," Isabelle murmured, still a bit perplexed. What a unique title to give one's self.

Toriel murmured softly to the child, "You're _certain _you don't want anything?"

Frisk hummed out a grunting-like noise and shook their head lightly. It was a gesture that plainly said, '_I'm good, it's fine.'_

"Well, if you get hungry, or anything…-" Toriel trailed off.

There was a brief pause where Toriel was scrutinizing over Frisk, trying to decipher any potential dissatisfaction the child might be harboring. When she found none, she took another sip of her drink and cast her eyes upon Isabelle.

Realizing she had a fresh drink before her, Isabelle took a sniff of its steam. She preferred the more fresh-roasted brews, served in a teacup on a saucer, but...well, she was here to accommodate her guests, not maintain routine.

"So," Isabelle said, coughing slightly from her coffee not quite being what she was used to. "Um, Frisk. Do you like living with Ms. Toriel?"

"Just Toriel, dear," Toriel reminded.

"Right." Isabelle flashed an over-exuberant smile, relieved that Toriel was too busy looking at Frisk's sign language gestures.

Toriel chuckled at something Frisk had said with their hands. Isabelle only caught the last sign – they'd pinched all of their fingers together, even the thumbs, save for their index fingers, pointed upward. They'd brought the fingertips together with an inquisitive glance.

"_Oh_, it's not-..." Toriel began, a bit embarrassed. "No…_Frisk._" Clamping a hand against her cheek, she grinned, shaking her head as Frisk nodded with a smug little smirk.

"What?" Isabelle prodded, chuckling second-hand.

Toriel shook her head a little, shaking off the flush in her cheeks.

"It's nothing," Toriel replied, "They're making fun of me a bit – but, um, they say they much prefer their new home to their old one."

"Mm." Isabelle nodded thoughtfully, noting Frisk's expression of confirmation, though there was an odd twinkle to the child's brown eyes, and Isabelle couldn't help but feel like some truth had been left out of Toriel's translation.

Isabelle, moving past this, reflected, "A change of scenery can make a big difference." She swallowed more of her coffee, thinking back on her first days in Arcadia. "The place you live in, that's a big deal. Your day-to-day life can totally change the way you feel, the way you think...I'm glad you're happier now than before. Toriel will take very good care of you, I'm sure."

Frisk had by now shoved their elbows onto the table and plopped their cheeks into their palms, relaxing themselves into The Roost's atmosphere.

"Just as I'm sure _you _have been taking good care of that…_Mayor_," Toriel assumed, her voice withering at the end.

"I, um, yes. I've been doing my best," Isabelle stated, tapping a finger against her coffee cup as that chilling voice of Ms. Vaswani echoed in her eardrums. "It's been-...It's been a bit difficult as of late, I admit, but…I _am_ hanging in there. You know? We all have to endure and survive, don't we?"

"I suspect I may have some idea as to what you mean," said Toriel, setting her cup down after multiple consecutive sips. She sighed bitterly. There it was, that familiar bridled frustration about Mr. Asgore.

"Oh?" Isabelle verbally poked.

Toriel's eyes flickered in a way that made Isabelle uneasy.

"Asgore is a difficult man to take care of," Toriel remarked darkly.

Frisk wriggled their hands toward Toriel's cup, a mischievous little smile on their face. Toriel smirked back and nodded toward them, enabling them to grasp the cup with two hands, take a swig, and choke a little, dribbling traces of the drink onto their shirt. Today, they were wearing a pleasantly pink sweatshirt beneath their blue-and-pink striped jacket. Toriel's eyes remained glued to the kid as they sampled the beverage, and she took a napkin from the table to tenderly dab at the droplets of spilled cappuccino on Frisk's striped sweater.

"He is," Isabelle agreed – Asgore _was _a difficult man to look after. But she was absorbing the warmth of this mother-child moment unfolding before her. "The job has kept me on my toes, especially recently. There's just been..._odd _things going on, and…-"

Isabelle caught herself saying a bit too much, perhaps. But the stern, glazed over glint in Toriel's eyes suggested that the awful pit that had been growing in Isabelle's stomach was founded in something real.

"Be careful," Toriel said. "And if you can, I _would _recommend seeking out new employment. As quickly as possible. Preferably...away from Arcadia."

Isabelle's throat turned dry at this comment, and a couple gulps of her bitter drink didn't cure this.

She almost swallowed some coffee down the wrong tube. Wiping at her lips with her wrist, she recollected herself. But Toriel was avoiding the flash of panic in Isabelle's expression.

"Wh-...What do you mean?" Isabelle inquired hesitantly, clearing her throat. "If-...It's just, if there…-" Isabelle leaned over the table a little, scanning around them before lowly uttering, "If there are _things _going on in Arcadia that aren't...clean, doesn't…-" She sighed, leaning back and letting her voice rise back again. "Wouldn't that mean we _need _people in a position of power to do something about it?"

"Perhaps," Toriel acknowledged tartly. Frisk was tugging at her shirt a bit.

As Toriel was distracted by a question in sign language, Isabelle's worries felt solidified. Mr. Asgore was up to something bad, wasn't he? Always keeping her so busy, always coming up with his excuses, all the while meeting with all of these questionable people. What if his own bumbling attitude was just some way to shake off suspicion? Or, more likely, she felt, his weaknesses were being taken advantage of by people like those executives at Zaibatsu.

"Whatever you decide to do," said Toriel, seeing Frisk off with a five bison-dollar bill to buy something at the counter. Toriel concluded, "I just hope you are committed to it." Rubbing her thumb against the side of her coffee cup, she scratched dust from her eyelashes with a sigh. "That oaf ex of mine, his greatest weaknesses is his own uncertainty. He didn't used to be this way. But being in office, it has changed him. Not for the better. You may be his assistant, but please, Isabelle. Avoid following in his footsteps."

Isabelle was left gawking at Toriel, whose eyes had locked onto hers over the course of her remarks.

"Don't worry," Isabelle replied, understanding the delicate nature of these matters they were tip-toeing around. "I'll do my best."

Toriel nodded, her expression softening a little.

"I'm sure you w-"

But their conversation was cut off when the entire table shook - bumped upon by Frisk's back. Toriel's coffee cup was knocked over, what was left spilling across the table. Isabelle flinched out of her chair to avoid it getting dripped over her skirt, clutching her own cup cautiously.

"What-?" Toriel spat out, turning to Frisk with alarm.

The young one was wide-eyed and shaking, staring off at the counter, scrambling their limbs against Toriel's sweater-vest.

"My child," Toriel grunted, exasperated, "What has gotten-...?" But she stopped when she went to look.

Isabelle, aghast, tried to look but simply saw...well, people. Just going about their day.

"What is it?" Isabelle asked, prying her eyes away from the shop to notice the spilled cappuccino everywhere. With a sigh, she began plucking napkins and layering them across the wooden table to absorb the mess. "What's wrong?" she followed up when she didn't receive an answer.

Frisk had let out a gentle but clearly unnerved whimper of sorts, and was pointing out some figure at the back of the cafe. Isabelle couldn't tell who it was, exactly, that the kid was pointing out. No one looked...immediately suspicious. Oh, well, sure, one of City Hall's security guards was there, having a coffee at the main counter. That must've been who was unsettling the child. But it was just Mr. Resetti – a grumpy man, to be sure, but not someone to be so scared of. Unless this child was perhaps scared of people in uniform? For all Isabelle knew…-

"Child," Toriel sighed with some confusion, as Frisk was continuing to yank at her clothes, making to leave. "Explain what's going on," Toriel pressed, not budging.

Frisk gave her a sudden and sharp glare that sent a strange shiver up Isabelle's spine. But a disgruntled squint later and Frisk was rapidly flicking their fingers and hands about, signaling something to Toriel, before accenting their signs with an irate flick of the wrists across the cafe.

Toriel's eyes narrowed with some frustration, scanning the cafe. Then she hand-signed a clearly aggravated reply.

"Toriel," Isabelle prodded, scooping up all the soggy napkins and plopping them into the now empty cup Toriel had been drinking from. "What _is _it?"

"My child thinks someone here wants to hurt us," Toriel explained, her voice strained with exhaustion.

"Oh, wh-whoa, well, it's-...it's OK," Isabelle warily tried to assure, wiping her fingers dry with yet another napkin. Patting Frisk on the shoulder cautiously with her fingertips, she knelt over, pointing toward the counter, where Mr. Resetti sat. "See? That's a security officer there. If anything happened, he would keep us safe."

But Frisk's nose wrinkled, their eyebrows furrowing. Somehow, Isabelle's comment just seemed to irk them. They shrugged off Isabelle's contact, huffing hot air through their nose as they pointed out to Isabelle the source of their worries.

Isabelle, bending down slightly to meet Frisk's point of view, took note of a woman across the cafe. Just a woman, drinking her coffee alone, talking on her phone. She had a hoodie on, drawn over her head. From this distance, that was about all Isabelle could make out. She didn't get it.

"Is that...someone you know?" Isabelle asked quietly.

Frisk's expression went sour - uncertain. They shrugged, and wobbled their head in a weird way that wasn't quite a nod or a shake.

As if suddenly realizing something, they pulled out their cell phone – the screen was quite cracked. They swiped their thumbs around, only to toss their head back a bit and huff again, putting their phone back in their pocket.

Isabelle stood back up straight, exchanging looks with Toriel. Toriel just shook her head, forlorn and evidently frustrated. She began to hand sign at Frisk, who exasperatedly signed back.

Lost in this, Isabelle took the paper cup filled with coffee-soaked napkins to a disposal bin and chucked it. When she turned to go back to their table, she was surprised to see the pudgy, stout man that was Mr. Resetti now speaking with her company.

In her frozen moment of perplexation, Isabelle noticed that woman Frisk had pointed out whisked by, dropping her own cup into the trash as she exited the premises. She tried to make out what she could of the woman's identity - fair featured, certainly, with unkempt golden hair, mostly stuffed beneath her hood. A scowl about her. Whoever the woman was, Isabelle did not know, yet in the way she stealthed herself out of the shop, glancing back over her shoulder as she did so, Isabelle couldn't help but discern that maybe something was indeed 'up' with this.

"I can see it all over yer face, kid. You _know_ what you did." Oof. Mr. Resetti sounded like he was getting ready to give the poor child another one of his infamous lectures. "Now don't go lyin' to me."

Frisk shrunk in the security officer's presence, which did not surprise Isabelle. Resetti had his heart in the right place, but he was a rather blunt gentleman, to put it softly, and he always seemed irregularly suspicious of kids in general.

"You must be mistaken," Toriel attempted to defend. "They were merely startled by someone they thought they recognized." Her tone was pleasant and calm despite how irritable she had been mere moments prior. "They haven't been feeling well lately, so…-"

"Yea?" Resetti grunted, hands jammed into his pockets. "If they ain't feelin' so well, maybe they oughtta be at home where they can't go rilin' up a ruckus."

"They certainly wouldn't be up to any such shenanigans," Toriel assured. "I'm keeping my eye on them."

Resetti gave Toriel an odd glance, noting, "Maybe ya oughtta keep _two_ eyes, instead o' one."

He then noticed Isabelle approach.

"Hello, Mr. Resetti," she bid him with some hesitation. "Is...something the matter?"

"Afternoon, Ma'am," he greeted her with a slight tilt up of his chin. He sniffed through his pointed nose gruffly, wiping at his fuzzy upper lip with his thumb. "These yer chums, here, Izzy?"

"Wh-? I-..." Off-put by the man's language, Isabelle's eyebrows contorted a bit, but she maintained courtesy. "They are. Why? Is there a problem?" Isabelle pondered.

"_Enh,_" Resetti puffed, his tightened shoulders sagging a bit now. He glowered down at Frisk, who was frowning dully at him. He pointed a fat finger at the child, citing in a low grumble, "You stay outta _trouble, _kid. Don't make me have to read you the riot act." After a tense moment of bitter staring, hunching over toward the child, he rolled his eyes when Frisk crossed their arms defiantly at him. "Yea, yea," he sighed, swiping a dismissive hand as he began to saunter back to his coffee. "I'll scram, before I go throwin' my back out." He paused, just a couple steps off, before whipping his head around to give Frisk one last suspicious look. Finishing his coffee, he said to the barista, "Hey, thanks, Mr. Brewster, a fine cup as usual. Sorry for the, erh, disturbance, there." And with that, he took his leave.

"I'm-...I am _so _sorry," Isabelle whispered to Toriel, watching Frisk grouchily slump back into their seat and fold their face against their elbows, into the table. Nudging her head toward the security officer, Isabelle noted, "He normally keeps to himself, I don't know what...would've gotten _into_ him."

"I could say the same for _this _one," Toriel tiredly remarked, giving Frisk a ruffle against their head. Toriel glanced down at herself, realizing she now had some coffee stains on her skirt. With a sigh, she got up from her seat. "I'm going to visit the restroom. Would you mind…-?" Her eyes flicked toward the child, glumly sitting face-down on the table.

Isabelle nodded insistently, brows furrowing in a silent ease toward her friend to take a break.

As Toriel went off to take a moment's respite, Isabelle gave herself a second to breathe. Something certainly felt off today, didn't it? If it wasn't the Mayor and his associates, it was people in this coffee shop being suspicious. What was _up_ lately? What did Toriel know, and why wasn't she-?

_Oh. _Whoa, oop, what?

Isabelle flinched when her denim skirt was tugged at - Frisk had gotten up while she'd been worrying, and seemed to want her attention.

Shooing the child's hand off of her leg fretfully, Isabelle scanned Frisk's expression. Their eyes were dull and tired, like they'd been losing sleep. They flicked their fingers and hands around frantically.

Her mouth going slightly agape with concern, Isabelle shrugged, shaking her head.

"Sorry, I don't-...Um…-"

Frisk pulled their phone out and tapped their thumbs at it quickly before shoving the phone in Isabelle's face.

"Oh, what do you…-?" Isabelle cleared her throat before gingerly accepting the device and reading through the screen's many cracks.

A blank note screen with some text entered into it.

( Is that mean guy your friend? )

Isabelle smiled nervously, shrugging some more.

"O-Oh, Mr. Resetti? I, um, we-...We _know _each other. I mean, I _suppose _on a good day, I might, erm…-"

Frisk interrupted her rambling to type more.

( He knows about me. How come? )

Isabelle gave pause at this.

"What do you mean?" Isabelle pressed, politely handing the phone back as she asked.

More screen tapping. A moment's thought. A nod to themself, biting their lip a little as they handed the phone back.

( He knows what I am but he shouldn't. Why? )

Isabelle raised a brow at this. 'What I am?' Hm. Toriel had explained to Isabelle with indirect terms that Frisk seemed to struggle with some identity issues – relieved somewhat by the nonbinary pronouns, but even deeper-seated problems existed, it seemed. But Isabelle hadn't picked up anything out of the ordinary from their encounter with Resetti. He was a grouchy guy, sure, but he was dedicated to his job, looking out for the people at City Hall. Although...it _was _odd how antagonistic he had seemed toward poor Frisk. At most, the kid might have...what, bumped into him? Perhaps?

"What did you do to upset him?"

To Isabelle's question, Frisk had a dodgy answer.

( I can't tell you. )

Isabelle's eyes fizzled with perplexation and worry at this.

"Can't tell me?" she murmured suspiciously, to which Frisk shrunk and shook their head.

After taking a few seconds to decipher what _that _could mean, Isabelle was off-put when Frisk snatched their phone back, shoved it into their pocket, and frantically hopped back into their seat – ah, Toriel was returning.

Fussing with her blonde hair a bit as she considered whether to bring this up or not, Isabelle took a gulp of her coffee, tapping a thoughtful index finger against the cup as her friend rejoined them.

"Did Frisk behave themselves while I was gone?" Toriel asked, giving Frisk a teasing rub on the back. "Surely, it must've been _difficult _to restrain them, what-not with...all the _trouble _they must've caused…" Ah, she was kidding around.

Frisk shrugged off her back-rubbing with a timid smile, but still looked unnerved.

"Oh, don't mind that nasty grump," Toriel tried to encourage. "He doesn't even know you."

"He, um," Isabelle put in, "Mr. Resetti can be a bit...quick to jump to conclusions, and so…-" She nodded, trailing off. "Don't let it get to you," she advised, looking Frisk right in the eyes. "Deep down, he's a good person, just trying to do his job. And you're a good _kid_, just...trying to...um…-"

Frisk puffed air through their nostrils, staring down at the coffee-stained table as their nose wrinkled, their head bobbing in an impatient way.

And then something odd happened, which gave Isabelle quite a start.

The entire table shook again. Violently.

Frisk had given it a fierce shove, jumped up from their seat, and was storming out of the cafe, hands jammed in their pockets.

"Frisk?" Toriel spit out with alarm. She got partway up from her seat, hesitant to leave so suddenly.

"Ihh-It's fine," Isabelle insisted, "I'm sorry if I…-"

"You did nothing wrong," Toriel assured warily, palming at her forehead as a worn look fell over her. "My child is just…-" She regained her composure, eyes locked on where Frisk was headed as they left the shop. "My apologies, Isabelle. We should...leave for the day."

"Of course," said Isabelle, oozing understanding while being utterly confused and concerned. "Yes, right. Take care of them, I'll...see you again some other time."

"Thank you, Dear."

With this, Toriel whisked her large frame out of the shop, giving Frisk chase as best she could. From within the store, Isabelle sipped the last of her coffee as she worriedly watched the two get into some kind of spat. Frisk went so far as to smack poor Toriel, right on the cheek, with the back of their hand! Yikes...What a mood-swinger, that kid. Whatever was happening with them, Isabelle did not envy Toriel. And mere seconds after this fit of violence, Frisk was bawling their eyes out into Toriel's knees. Huh.

With an empty coffee cup clasped her pudgy hands, Isabelle took a deep breath.

Maybe she needed a vacation? Arcadia was beginning to stress her out much more than she'd bargained for. Her small-fry hometown had been a completely different animal from the much more complicated workings of this city.

All the more reason, then, to try and do what she could to keep Arcadia stable.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

-( And yea. )  
-( So that's why I'm late, hehehe )  
-( Sorry, Sandra. )

( A good time was had by all, then. )-  
( So it seems. )-

-( :D So it seems… )  
-( Soooo Sandra. )  
-( You're the one being the Reader tonight. ;) )  
-( What do you think? )  
-( Is she into me? )

( I wouldn't know, Alexandra. )-  
( If you ask me, things such as looks, gestures, expressions… )-  
( They can distract from the words that lay out truth. )-

-( And what does THAT mean? )

( It means that if you are left questioning such things with such ardent lamentation, then what you need are simple words. )-

-( Huh. )  
-( Yea, I guess you're right. )  
-( Also, good GODDESSES never call me Alexendra )  
-( Like ever )

( Hm. Noted. ( ‾ ʖ̫ ‾) )-  
( Regardless, have you given thought to that work opportunity? )-  
( You were very negative during our last conversation regarding such things. )-

-( I mean )  
-( 'Work opportunity?' )  
-( That's being generous… )

( Perhaps it is. )-  
( Though you were the one telling me that anything is anything. )-

-( Yea, yea. I know. )  
-( You're right. )  
-( It sounds kind of weird but not difficult. )  
-( I guess they're thinking of running a test tomorrow, so )  
-( maybe I'll go. )  
-( Not like I have anything better to do. )

( Something is something. )-

-( MM. )

( Sometimes it is mere somethings which can change everything. )-

-( Ooooookay )  
-( Now who's the one that's tired? )

( Ha. I never tire. )-  
( I bore, perhaps, but never tire. )-

-( Nothing caffeine can't fix, right? )

( Something like that. )-

"_**Damn," **_blurted Mae from across the bedroom, furiously clicking at their mousepad. "Stupid frickin'...-!" Their eyes went wide in a fizzle of frustration, then narrowed as the laptop was slammed shut.

"Whoa," Alex said, expressing her concern. "What-...Whhhhhat _is _it?"

She couldn't help but read the reply Sandra had sent her.

( If it matters, as you would say, I think you should go tomorrow. )-

"This _game, _man!" Mae howled. "They need to fix this jank. I hate having to play through the whole thing in _one go. _And it's totally unfair! They make your health go _down _with each floor. So you spend like twenty minutes playing, being all careful and then WHAM one hit, dead, and just..._BLURGH._"

"Huh?" Alex murmured, confused.

"I'll beat it one of these days," Mae grumbled, swerving over the edge of their bed to retrieve a laptop plug from the floor. Plugging it into their device, Mae swept ragged hair back across their skull. "ONE DAY I shall ascend to the PEAK of… ** r**."

"Wait, ** r**?" Alex posed, having recognized the music and sound effects. "Be grateful you restart on the floor you're on when you die. I remember in the original, when you died, that was _it. _One life. Restart the whole game."

"Seriously?" Mae was bewildered.

"Yea," Alex cited, "And that whole thing where you got the extra dodges with each floor? Didn't even have _that. _You had three, and that was it. Three hearts, too. Also..._it._"

"Back when Palecat was younger and bright-eyed," Mae lamented. "Anyway, dude, I didn't know you were into this retro stuff."

"Oh, eh…-" Alex felt her throat go tight. "Just, uh-..." She shook her head slightly, tucking hair behind her ears.

"Brother, huh?" Mae theorized.

Alex sighed through her nose and nodded.

"We used to play the original when I was little," Alex ruminated.

She replied to Sandra.

-( And as YOU said, it does matter. And yea, I think I will go. )

"Never played the first one," Mae mumbled.

The scent of carpet and pizza crust, the rough-cased pillow wedged against her chest, chin on her wrists. A cold Saturday morning in the living room of their apartment, watching Michael finally scale the peak of the Ancient Doom Spire for the first time. Consequently, the first day she ever gathered the courage to try playing the game herself.

Sucking in a breath through her nose as she stumbled out of the hazy fog of memory, Alex shook off the chill that had settled over her back.

"Yea, it...was a thing. That existed," Alex unceremoniously muttered regarding the old game. "Never beat it myself, actually. Michael did. Heh. I tried, but…-"

"Rough."

"Mm."

A quiet hung over them as Mae checked their phone, looking a little confused.

Alex had a folllow-up from Sandra.

( I bid you the best of luck with the endeavor. )-  
( I also regret to say that I sadly have nothing written to show you today. )-

-( Ah, work cracking down lately, huh? )

( Indeed. )-

-( I won't stop you. )

( Please do reconvene tomorrow. )-  
( I have a poem brewing I'd like to run by you. )-  
( I am also intent to hear how this survey goes. )-

-( LOL i mean NDAs and whatever. )  
-( But sure. Will do. :) )

( Farewell, my Reader. )-

-( Good night! )

Alex began to submerge herself in a 40-minute video of 'chill music to study to', but only thirty seconds in and Mae was gesturing at her with their phone. Because Alex was playing music through her speakers. So. Alex put on those old headphones and lost herself more privately.

Mae went about calling back Gregg, who had texted them recently, pleading for a callback. Mae definitely, for sure, utterly did NOT WANT this to be an emergency of any real consequence.

But it was Gregg, Mae would never leave the dude hanging.

"Hey."

( "Hey." )

"What's, uh…-"

( "Down." )

"Oh?"

( "With the sickness." )

"What?"

( "This shift is killing me. k.i.l.l.i.n.g. me, Mae." )

"That slow, huh?"

( "Man, I wish Casey was still around." )

"Yea...He was good at killing the time that was killing _us, _huh?"

( "He was." )

"Never heard back from him, huh?"

( "Nah, bruh." )

"Sucks, man."

( "Sucks. Anyway. When do you come to tag me out?" )

"An hour? Ish?"

( "Nice." )

"Would be nicer if we ever got to work together like we used to."

( "Ron's a stingy prick, never staffs us together no more." )

"It was _just _one time…"

( "RITE?" )

"We'll show him one day."

( "One day. For now, got a double-shift coming up for Longest Night Eve." )

"Oh, really?"

( "I think?" )

"Weird."

( "Yea, guess Ron thinks a buncha people will be runnin' around through town or summin'." )

"Nice."

( "By the wayyyy, you know what happened to my helmet?" )

"Helmet? Which one, duder?"

( "The old one. The military one?" )

"The great-grandad one?"

( "YeaYeaYea the spikey one!" )

"Dunno, boyo."

( "Grrrrmmmmm, musta lost it somewhere when we went on that crazy bender other night." )

"Keepin' an eye peeled for it, but I feel like I would've tripped over it by now if it was here."

( "Is what it is I guess. It'll turn up. Anyway YO we gotta get the band back for more practice STAT." )

"I KNOW."

( "Was pretty nice seein' Bea back in the swing of keyboardin'." )

"Mm…"

( "You think she's still in? Like, to stick with it?" )"Dunno, Greggo."

( "Angus says she smiled at some point." )

"Oh, yea?"

( "When you flopped the bass on that hard part." )

"_Fff. _Yea…Well, easy for _her _to laugh, what's _she _gotta do? Hit the Enter key? And then just sit there?"

( "She sets it all up ahead of time, and then. Yanno. Does whatever." )

"'Drums.' Yea. Yuh-huh, O_K, _Bea. _Pff._ It's not 'drums,' man, it's…'computer.' That's not an instrument."

( "Aw, you _do _miss her…" )

"Blah-blaaaah," Mae huffed back stubbornly, watching Alex get up and go for the bathroom. "I do not."

( "Totally reminds me of like when uhhh Angus was up north for that work thing? Remember that?" )

"Ah, yea. Some conference or something? Up in Cloudbank?"

( "Yea, that uptight hipster place. And by the time he came back I was all like, 'whyyyy does everything gotta be all organized?' or whatever. Like I was all teasing him for this stuff that never really bugged me until he wasn't around." )

"Uh...K. Yea. This is..._totally _like that, Gregg."

( "Anyway, so did she touch base after practice?" )

"Huh? No. Hell no." Mae paused, eyes furrowing curiously as they contemplated the idea of revisiting first base with Bea. Not, ya know, not that Gregg was _asking _that. Right? "I'm the bassist, dude, why would _she_-?"  
( "Nah-nah, I mean, did she _talk with you?_" )  
"Oh. Well, _still _no. Why?"

( "Huh. I dunno. Angus said he got a text from her, so, yea." )

"_Mrh. _She was always more of an IM gal than texting."

( "OHHHH yeaaaa! You are pretty correct. Come to think." )

"I am _always _pretty correct, one third or so of the time." Mae tipped their head up to Alex as she came back from the toilet, and received a slightly confused wave.

( "You were wrong about me dying in a bike crash on the way home last night." )

"Maybe. But I'll be pretty correct when that busted-ass elevator finally breaks and sends you tumbling and smashing into a wreck of broken bones and shrapnel."

( "And I'll be handsome correct when your roommate turns out to be a serial killing psychopath who strangles you with a plastic grocery bag while you sleep." )

"Not before that broken elevator bursts into flames from the fall, turning your mushy puddle of Greg-mush into metal-melted goo."

( "And the grocery bag strangling will happen when you're watching porn so you'll die in that weird asfixation thing? And it'll be super embarrassing for you. They'll lower your casket and your face will be all stuck mid-orgasm." )

"I would die on a high note, I guess, and my mom would change my social media to be a picture of me, dead, mid-orgasm. '**Mae, they died as they lived: orgasm-ing everywhere.**"

"_What _are you two _talking _about?" Alex spat from her bed, alarmed and a bit put-off.

Mae caught themself imagining Gregg's bizarre scenario for a fleeting second, then shrugged off Alex's question.

"Messing around," Mae cited. "Gregg and I have this back-and-forth kinda thing."

"Uh..._huh._" Alex was pretty super not-impressed. She continued typing away at her laptop.

( "That was Alex probably being all weird and creepy and totally thinking about how she's gonna kill you tonight, right?" )

"Actually maybe."

( "Ha. Anyway, hey, hey-hey, I may or may not have another fun time planned for this weekend." )

"I _do_ like fun."

( "My wallet's flat from last time, so...we're gonna get a little creative." )

"Still crimes, though?"

( "still crimes tho. _Money makin' _crimes." )

"Nice."

( "Toit." )

"Cool-cool-cool."

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

( Call from. . . )

( Dr. O'Deorain )

Ah, yes. No-doubt a follow-up call on the results from their appointment days back. The same appointment where, _apparently, _Frisk, Sans, and Papyrus had been stalked? By the police?

Toriel had to shake off her irritation as she answered her phone.

"Yes, hello? This is Toriel."

[ "Hello, there." ]

"Have you called to discuss the tests from last week?"

[ "I have. Our results are...inconclusive at this time. We feel we need to bring the specimen back in for

further study." ]

Toriel's insides flared up with frustration.

"My child. You mean."

[ "Mm? Yes, that's the one I'm referring to. We'll need to examine them more thoroughly." ]

Toriel's fist was already clenched in her own lap, her book about bonsai tree care having been set aside on the coffee table.

"And what have you learned about their case so far?" she demanded, her tone as soft as it could be despite her annoyance.

[ "Without applying proper stressors to replicate the incidents in your reports, I'm afraid there's very  
little we _can _learn. Given what we know about your child's origins, nothing seems amiss." ]

"_Something _certainly is," Toriel insisted. "They continue to have sudden mood swings, starting arguments with me, running off in a huff...It's _your _fault my child is like this."

[ "_Hmph_," ] a soft chuckle. [ "With all due respect, they were never your child to begin with, were they?" ]

That one was a low blow. The doctor could think whatever she wanted about Frisk, but Toriel had claimed ownership of the child's caretaking. She actually _loved _Frisk. She viewed Frisk as an actual _person._

"They _are _my child now. I am their mother. This is their home."

[ "For the time being. And as long as you continue to cooperate, arrangements can be maintained." ]

"I'm not going to let you hurt them."

[ "_Ha. _That's not quite what I'd be concerned with." ]

Toriel's throat went dry at the implication, given what she had experienced recently.

"What...can be done to cure them?"

[ "Their situation's mad as a box of frogs. As I've stated, further study is required." ]

Toriel could feel her chest igniting with fear at the prospect of what might happen. On the other hand, she couldn't carry on as she had been without any answers or explanation. Something was very wrong with Frisk. And she felt powerless without knowledge as to what that problem was. O'Deorain and her colleagues were the only ones who could provide answers.

"Very well," Toriel murmured uncertainly.

[ "I'll have my colleague work a more intensive study session into our schedule. I can assure you that this case is of the utmost priority to us." ]

It was the reasons _why _that concerned Toriel.

"And what will this 'intensive study' entail, might I ask?"

[ "We need to isolate any independent variables. Our lab is the most secure environment to conduct these procedures." ]

All of this babbling, and what Toriel was hearing was that the child's humanity was of no importance.

But Toriel knew that despite everything, Frisk's humanity was the _most _important thing they possessed.

"Will these 'procedures' cause them any pain?"

[ "I won't mince words – some of what must be done will be unpleasant. Biology's habits are hard to

break." ]

Toriel dabbed her sleeve against her dampening eyes as the reality of this mess was sinking in.

"Will my child be kept _safe_?"

[ "The specimen is invaluable." ] _**MY. CHILD. **_[ "Every precaution will be taken to guarantee its safety." ]

"I don't-..." Toriel choked on a sob that was trying to claw its way up her throat. "I'm not sure about all of this. I don't understand what's going on. This isn't like last time. Something's different."

[ "Don't worry," ] assured the Doctor. [ "Science will reveal the truth." ]

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_Satya (Symmetra), Ogundimu (Doomfist), Hana ( ), and Orisa originate from __**Overwatch**__ (Blizzard)  
Mr. Resetti originates from __**Animal Crossing**__ (Nintendo)_


	6. Episode 6

_**(keep in mind this story is designed to be read in PDF format, or at least on Archive of Our Own, FF doesn't allow me to post links)**_

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)

**Episode 5**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Alex was following the directions on her Navi app - it seemed like she was about at her destination. A conspicuous building of white with blue accents - fancy, tinted windows with interlocking gears painted over them. The sign resting on the ground in front of the building's parking lot depicted a bronze, metal gear with an arrow looping around and through, as if to create the image of a planet with a ring.

Alex had arrived:  
**FUTUREGADGET LABORATORIES**

There was a small parking lot in front of the building, sparsely populated, and a locked gate to the left side with a checkpoint in front. Wow. Kind of serious stuff, then, huh? The building was only two stories tall, which made Alex wonder what was below ground, given the curious-looking tunnel behind the locked gate.

The main entrance was clear for entry, at least. Traversing the sidewalk path leading to it, Alex replied to her text.

-( Thanks, Liv. I found my way here! )

-( Do I just go to the front desk? )

( Yea, check in at the reception desk. Should be a terminal there. )-  
( Run into trouble, let me know. )-

-( Will do. )

Alex gave herself a second to take a breath. She didn't know why she was so nervous. Maybe just because of how intimidating the building was? Or how quiet things were?

Fortune didn't favor those who stood around not doing anything, though.

She tucked her phone into her over-sized letter jacket, took a deep breath, and pushed through the glass double doors into the sterile lobby. It was deathly quiet, and actually a fairly small lobby for how large the building was. There was a front desk, but it was strangely bare, with no one occupying it. Instead, the focus seemed to be on an ornate terminal with a large tablet built into it, embedded into the center of the front counter.

Before Alex even approached it, however, she was startled when the terminal instantly flashed its screen on.

[ "_**Tutturu~**_" ]

A gentle but enthusiastic voice sing-sang its greeting. Alex's heart skipped from the suddenness of it, and she uttered a frustrated, "_Shit,_" under her breath as she recovered from the shock, clutching at her stomach. Alex gawked at the screen on the terminal, now realizing that a woman was being displayed on it. A live video feed, maybe? Some kind of cheery elevator music was playing through speakers up in the corners of the lobby, layering on a sense of calm that...oddly did not put Alex at ease.

[ "Welcome-Welcome!" ] greeted the woman on the terminal's screen, her voice pouring out of a built-in speaker. The voice echoed through the empty lobby, bouncing across the black tile flooring. [ "_Step _right up, please! Over here! I don't bite!" ]

Hesitant hands stuffed as fists in her pockets, Alex carefully approached the screen. Alex couldn't help but notice that the room the woman was in was entirely white, and she was garbed in a sky blue blouse and pencil skirt. Dark blue hair, prickling outward from around her neck, just shy of the shoulders. She looked like an adult, a bit older than Alex, yet...sounded and moved like a kid. It was a little weird, especially coming from a desk receptionist who...wasn't even physically _there_. She had eyes that were bright, but clouded in a way. Soft features, a robust, er, bust, and an otherwise unassuming but delicate frame. The twinkle in her eyes made Alex wonder why she acted the way she did.

[ "That's the way, there you go! Hello-hello! I'm Mayushii! Nice tooooo _meetcha!_" ]

"Uh-...Um…-" Alex's breathing was short, her heart-rate increasing. This was weird.

[ "Awww, you look nervous, sweetie!" ] The blue-haired woman in the terminal screen giggled.

[ "Sorry if I surprised you! Nothin' to be scared of, here, I can hear you _and _see you! Oh. Oop. Maybe that sounded a little-...Ahaha. W-Well, sorry I can't be there in person, um, FutureGadget is a super- duper busy place and, so-...Actually, you must be Alexandra, huh?" ]

Alex had been stupidly gawking at the woman's child-like mannerisms through the terminal's screen. She nodded in reply. The woman clapped her hands together abreast, bobbing on her toes twice before flurrying her hands somewhere off-camera.

Alex responded awkwardly, "Um, I prefer 'Alex,' though. Actually."

[ "Ohhhh, _gotcha-gotcha! _Okie dokie,Alex! Yup-yup, Alex Olas, right? You're here for a 1:30 appointment, aren'tcha?" ]

"Yea, mm…" Alex shrugged her shoulders up, trying to figure out where the cameras were on this thing. She couldn't see any.

[ "Allll _righty_!" ] Mayushii poked her index fingers downward, toward the bottom of the screen she was displayed within. There was some kind of black...flat...slot? [ "Gonna need you to take outcher ID, put it face-down on the scanner, please!" ]

Blinking dumbly, Alex fumbled through her pockets before yanking her wallet out of the back of her jeans. She grabbed her ID card - a driver's license, which was ironic since she'd yet to own a car; her hair was still brown back when the photo had been taken, too. She hated her ID photo, but everyone did, right?

[ "Uhhh-_huh_~" ] Mayushii seemed very…patronizingly cheerful as Alex placed her card down, lining it up with a grid sized for such cards. A red laser quickly slid on by. [ "Purrrrr-fect! You can take it out now!" ]

Removing her ID, Alex asked, "So, uh, what exactly...are we doing today?"

[ "Ahh, you'll find out when you're inside! The doctor will fill you in, uh-huh. Buuuut first-!" ] She clapped her hands and the screen was overlayed with a window, loading a document file. [ "This is the document I e-mailed you last night! Just gonna need you to sign it at the bottom and we'll be alllll set!" ]

"Sure," Alex murmured, swiping her finger along the screen. She'd glanced over it. Basic NDA sort of stuff, couldn't talk about whatever happened, yadda yadda. Apparently, the program was a multi- session thing. If she was approved, she'd have to keep coming in, twice a week, for at least a month.

Turned out, Sandra had been right: maybe this was a good idea, after all. The closest thing to steady work she'd had since, well, freshman year of college.

Upon hitting the bottom of the doc, Alex tried to sign the dotted line. She always hated these dumb things – signing with your finger on a touch screen was so...inaccurate.

[ "Ohhhhkey-_dohkeyyy_~" ] sang Mayushii gleefully, the document window vanishing to reveal her beaming face. [ "Give me _juhhhhst _a sec here, please!" ]

"Oh, sure, no wo-..." But the screen had gone blank before Alex had even finished her sentence. A second later, and the screen turned back on – some kind of weird screensaver depicting a bunch of spinning gears was playing. An abstract montage went on, showing a bunch of blue lines of code, flickering across the screen. Eventually, the symbols managed to spin and twist around to form the FutureGadget Laboratories logo, all before playing quickly in reverse, just to start back over again.

Just as soon as Alex was appreciating the complexity of the display, Miss Mayushii popped back in. [ "Three, two, _one, __**TA-RAHNN~**_" ]

Alex nearly tripped backward as Mayushii's sudden countdown culminated in a compartment at the base of the terminal spitting out a plastic card.

[ "Please put this on, Miss Olas, ma'am! An escort will pick you up _aaaannnny _second, now, and you'll be on your way! One last thing~" ] As Alex pulled out the card, she noted that a lanyard was already attached. Slinging it around her neck, she watched as Mayushii put her wrist up to her throat, coughed as if to clear it, then recited in a slow, weird way, [ "FutureGadget Labs appreciates this opportunity to kuh-lab-ohr-rate with you in the pursuit. of. _science_. No personal cellllll-yoo-luhr device usage is allowed past the lobby doors. For your own safety, please follow _alllll _instructions given to you by FutureGadget personnel at. all. times. Failure to cull-mply with any reh-gyuu-lations may result in a breach of contract _aaaaand _immediate expulsion from the...here-to-fore agreed upon program. _Doooo _not hesitate to contact your designated FutureGadget liaison – _that's meeee~ _– should you have any questions. concerns. _**orrrr **_feedback. to report. We at FutureGadget Labs thank you for your time and effort in helping us create a brighter tomorrow." ] Mayushii took a long, childishly exaggerated sigh, chuckling a little. [ "_OK_-Ok-**OK **that's it, that's all, I promise!" ]

As if on cue, a door from beyond the desk beeped, unlocked, and a slender figure in a lab coat emerged, holding a clipboard.

"M-Miss Olas?" they asked, their voice soft and awkward. Timid. Shaky.

"_Yea,_" Alex grunted out, flicking up a hand in what approximated a wave.

[ "That's Ruka-San!" ] Mayushii introduced, through the awkward layer of the terminal screen. [ "She's gonna take _gooood _care of you, 'n take you where you need to go! Ain't that right, Ruka?" ]

Ruka smiled sheepishly, nodded, and readjusted her clipboard against herself.

[ "Okey-dokey, artichokey!" ] Mayushii said. [ "Sorta sad I didn't get more time to get to know ya, but if everything goes well, I'll be seeing you a lot more often! Have a super-duper day, Alex!" ]

"...Uh. Right. Yea. You, too, Miss Mayushii."

Mayushii was grinning toothily, waving both hands emphatically. Alex squeamishly wriggled her own hand in return, putting on a plastic smile. The screen seemingly changed channels again, the screensaver from before playing.

"Is she...always like this?" Alex asked, regarding the woman in the screen.

"O-Oh, she can...be quite eccentric, I suppose...huh?" said the beanpole lady from beyond.

"That's _one _way of putting it," Alex mumbled, straightening her lanyard. The card had various stuff printed on it, barcodes and junk, with the prominent text { TEST SUBJECT } displayed on it.

"Well, let's...see to it, then," said Ruka, gesturing Alex to approach. She did so, as casually as she could. As she reached the soft-spoken woman, Alex was halted by a firm palm. "Um, y-your...cell phone? Any personal...devices, or...belongings…You'll want empty pockets."

Alex hesitated, but realized this wasn't really out of the ordinary with doctor stuff. Handing over her phone, wallet, and keys, she watched Ruka approach the empty front desk from behind – there was a safe of sorts there. Ruka made some key presses, pressed her thumbprint on a scanner, and the door opened. Ruka placed the items in a bag inside, then re-locked the safe.

"Thank you," Ruka said politely, then made way for the door beyond. "F-Follow me, please."

Ruka was, in many ways, the opposite of the woman Alex had just interfaced with. A beanpole hiding behind shaggy, fluffy black hair, Ruka had elegant yet subdued facial features, lean figure, and there was a fragility to their every motion. Her voice had a touch of depth to it unbecoming of her delicate appearance.

Ruka swiped her card at the lock mechanism to the door, and in they went. They were greeted by a gray and black hall, dimly lit, with a few elevators within. Ruka called one, escorted Alex inside, and tapped at the controls. They began adescent.

Alex was quiet all the while, keeping her hands to herself in her pockets.

"So, uh," she tried to start a conversation. "I heard about this place from Liv. Er, Olivia. You know her?"

"Oh." Ruka's shoulders flinched a little. She was standing in front, back turned to Alex. "I, umm-...Not really. I know..._of _her. But…-" She trailed off with a shrug.

"Ah, right," mumbled Alex. "This seems like a big place, must be a lot of employees."

"N-Not really, we all-...That is, I mean, different departments."

"Gotcha," Alex replied, observing the way Ruka was avoiding eye contact. Anti-social much?

The elevator dinged with each floor. They were going down into some kind of basement. From the looks of things, more of the building was underground than above. Weird.

"So," Alex tried again, eyes widening with some impatience. "Uh, what can you tell me about what I'll be doing here? I know it's some kind of, like, neuro-scanning? Or...-?"

"Nnn-...Not much I can say, really. I'm just _here _to get you..._there_. Then I have to...go and…-" She drizzled out a wary breath. "Y-You'll be working with our most experienced Doctors. I do know that. You'll be in good hands."

"Cool," said Alex, nodding. At Ruka's back. Because Ruka was still avoiding looking at her directly.

Her stomach felt weird as the elevator slowed and came to its sudden stop at their floor.

"Well. Here we are," said Ruka, briefly turning, as if to make sure Alex was still there. "Th-This way…"

Another quiet minute or two of pacing through a hallway. The silence was a bit unsettling, actually. The lack of doors was also curious, but when they reached the end of the hall, another security door – and a sturdy one, at that – seemed to be their final destination. Ruka swiped her card again – another beep, another unlocking sound, and Ruka shoved her light frame into the heavy door, struggling a little to push it open. Alex followed, and what sprawled before her was a surprisingly large, open room of white, black, and blue.

A large machine rested at the center, with an arc of metal, cables, wires, and all kinds of sciency...stuff. It looked kinda scary at first glance, but as Ruka led Alex toward it, she got a closer look and felt less intimidated. It looked like those big, bed-sort-of things you laid down in when you have your brain scanned? MRI? Or-...Hm. Alex had never gotten one of those before.

It was weird, though – usually they put you into this narrow, round tunnel kind of thing in the center, right? Only with this machine, it was...more like a...triangle? Not an even one, either, but like, a taller, skinny set of triangles? It was really weird. Like, a tube with three triangles of cables and wires around it? Seemed awfully complicated for just some scans. Maybe that was why they were being so secretive.

Eager to get things rolling, Alex went to take a seat, but Ruka's skinny hand quickly and nervously grabbed at her, tugging her back.

"O-Oh, please, wait a moment…"

"Got it," Alex mumbled, a little sheepish.

[ "Miss Urushibara," ] belted a low, smooth woman's voice from a tinny speaker system. The words bounded across the flat, empty room ominously. [ "Have you brought me the prospective participant for the Rán Case Study?" ] The voice, by implication, was coming from within a wide, tinted glass window at the front of the massive room, up on a balcony a story above them.

Ruka began to speak, mumbling too quietly, then cleared her throat and spoke with a bolder confidence Alex didn't think she'd had in her.

"Yes, Doctor! This is Alex Olas. The proper paperwork has been taken care of. I believe things have already been e-mailed to you, so Alex should be ready for testing."

[ "Understood. And has there been any sign of my associate yet?" ]

Ruka once again coughed gently before speaking loudly, though a little shaken.

"N-No, not yet. Sorry. Miss Shiina told me that he's...running late." Alex could hear Ruka mumble uncertainly, below her breath, "As usual…"

[ "I see," ] came the low, rolling voice. Alex couldn't see the figure Ruka was speaking with, but just from the timing and tone of things, it sounded like someone was in trouble, heh.

"Um…-" Alex went to pipe up to the 'Doctor' but felt odd, being unable to see them. So, she spoke to Ruka, instead. "Is this-...I mean, are we running late, then, or…-?"

"O-Oh, no, no," Ruka assured, "I can-..." She paused, then turned back to the tinted window. "Doctor, should I...assist you with…-?"

[ "That is quite all right, Madame," ] the voice assured firmly. [ "While I appreciate your assertion, this is a delicate procedure, and outside of your obligations. It is not my preference to see to matters personally, but I _will _see them done." ]

"O-...OK," Ruka murmured with some dejection. Aw, poor lady. Did she aspire to be a doc herself, or…-?

There was a heavy, awkward silence as Ruka didn't seem to know what to do with herself, and no command came from the terminal beyond the glass. The sound of light footsteps echoing down metal stairs trailed softly from the wall before them, only audible in this strange, deathly silence.

A door opened below the balcony – one Alex hadn't even noticed until then – a tall, lean woman (er, _was _it a woman?) with red hair slicked back over her skull approached them. She had a gaunt face, a chin so sharp it could puncture steel, and dull expressions but eyes like knives. Unlike Ruka's more stereotypical labcoat, this androgynous woman wore a tight-fitting white coat with a black undershirt and a purple tie neatly tucked in, along with black trousers and long, shining dress shoes. A gangly person, she was, with fingers like string beans. More curious still, one of her hands had finely trimmed nails while the other had elongated ones.

"Well?" She curtly glowered at Ruka. "No need to mess about. Mr. Hououin likely requires your aide much more than I."

"Oh!" Ruka blurted. "Right, of course! I-..." She gave Alex a quick, awkward bow, hands folded against her waist. "It was very nice to meet you, Alex. Good luck." And with that, Ruka was scurrying off like a squirrel before an agitated cat.

Now alone with the intimidating woman, Alex found her much more scary than any of the freaky machinery nearby.

"You are Alex Olas," the Doctor confirmed, lean arms crossed over her chest.

Alex nodded, "Y-Yea, last I...checked."

That remark had meant to be light humor, but based on the narrowing of her eyes, the Doctor was not amused.

"Are you, or _aren't _you?" the Doctor demanded in a quiet fizzle of impatience. It was in this moment that Alex realized that the woman's eyes were two different colors. Whoa.

"_Yes,_" Alex spat out squeamishly. "Yea, yup, _yes. _Sorry. A little nervous."

"I see," the woman said tiredly. "I am Doctor O'Deorain. I'll be overseeing this study alongside my partner, should the buffoon ever stop bunking off and come to work…"

With a withering sigh, O'Deorain ran her slender fingers up and across her smoothed back hair. With the other hand, she clutched irritably at one side of her face. Breathing out, she refocused on Alex.

"Do you require any facilities before we begin?"

"Eh-Excuse me?"

"The lavatory. You'll be strapped in for approximately thirty minutes, unable to leave. Do you need-"

"_Oh, _no, no, I'm...good. We're all good, restroom-wise."

Another tense and uneasy quiet lingered, with Alex unable to bring herself to look at the keen eyes of the Doc, instead surveying the complicated devices she was about to be hooked up into.

"I suppose we'd best crack on, then," said O'Deorain. She tilted up her pointed chin, nudging her gaze toward the hulking machine at the center of the room. "I'd ask you to please remove your coat and shirt, undo your hair, and adorn the examination gown you'll find resting on the patient table. Then take a seat, _don't _lie down yet, and don't mess about with anything."

After a moment of awkardness at the request – command? – Alex went about as she was told. It was...a bit undignified in her opinion to have no place to put her belongings. But it seemed like this whole thing wasn't going the way it was 'supposed' to. With some irritation, she set Michael's letter jacket down on the floor, dropped her sweatshirt on top of it, adjusted her bra, and put on the ugly, light blue smock-thing on the bed. _Brrrr, _now she was damn cold. Undoing her ponytail and dropping her scrunchy with the rest of her clothes, she lamented the uneven state of her hair as it hung over her shoulders lopsidedly – it was intentionally styled to _be _uneven, but designed as such to work with her tail, not just-...Anyway. Like it mattered what she looked like. Why'd she even care? She was here to-

-RRNNNNNK!-

"Hello, Doctor Makise?"

O'Deorain was at one end of the room, and had pressed a button on the wall, eliciting a blaring noise. Some kind of comms device.

[ "Yes, Moira?" ] answered back a lovely, feminine voice. [ "Is something wrong?" ] Oh, but one that had a bit of a sharpness to it.

"Hardly a surprise, perhaps, but my _associate _is not present for the initiation of Project Rán…"

[ "_Ugh, _typical. Look, I'm sorry to ask you this, but can you get started without him? We're already _barely _adhering to our schedule as it is, and-...Look, I'll speak with him myself, we _can't _have this keep happening." ]

"Indeed, we cannot. I've been _more _than accommodating for months now, given his...pressing circumstances, but…-"

[ "No, it's-...This is getting ridiculous. I _tried _to tell Hououin that he wasn't ready for this kind of-...I apologize for these conditions." ]

"I appreciate the sentiment, Madame," O'Deorain replied with a surprising amount of pleasantry. "We all have our methods, though. Not too long along ago I was dealing with...similar issues, myself. I'd ask you to not demean him, _but, _simultaneously, ensure that he is properly motivated to arrive for these appointments, in particular. In either case, I _will _be seeing to these matters, with or without him."

[ "Understood. Thank you, Doctor. Seriously. Hououin and I will definitely be having a word with him." ]

Still leaning against the wall, slouching with a bit of urgency, O'Deorain replied, "Shall I proceed with the preliminary scan, then?"

[ "Please do. Let me know how the results turn out." ]

"Indeed."

[ "As you were." ]

As the lanky Doctor slid her way back toward Alex, a pit was being knotted and entwined in Alex's gut. Then again, maybe this was why the study was paying decently. If she did two sessions a week? For a month? Or even more? She'd probably have her expenses for that period covered, opening her up to look for real work without having to burden anyone. Asking her family for money right now felt out of the question.

But it sounded like there was a chance she might not be a 'good fit' or something. She might not be whatever they were looking for in a 'study subject.' All Alex could do was hope for the best. She desperately needed to catch a break after how things had been going.

What was the worst that could happen, right? She'd skimmed over the procedure. Just some brain scans, some survey stuff...nothing crazy, nothing weird. Easy-peasy, just like Liv had told her.

As Dr. O'Deorain went about tweaking settings on the device, she primly commanded, "Lie down on the patient table, flat on your back. Arms tucked in at your sides, palms up."

Alex did as she was told.

"I'll be proceeding into the control room shortly," said the Doctor. "From there, I'll be monitoring everything. Do not be alarmed. I'd advise you take some time to relax. Close your eyes. Clear your mental palette. I'll be asking some questions as we prepare the scan. Do you understand?"

Alex, who had already closed her eyes, opened them, tried nodding, then mumbled out, "Y-Yea, got it."

"Brilliant."

With this, the Doctor slid off and away to where she had originally emerged. The soft footsteps of her lean form were surprisingly loud in the deathly quiet echo-chamber that was this sterile place.

Alex tried to relax. It was hard. She was feeling a little jumpy. She'd been skipping her Joy pills recently – the wondrous pills she'd been suffering withdrawal from until Mae and Chloe had set her back up. She'd been trying to abstain from them, somewhat worried they might come into play with whatever this was. Thankfully, no kind of blood sampling or anything like that going on. So. That was good. But she was feeling a little shaky, all the same. Twitchy. It was the stillness, wasn't it? Laying flat, in place, cold, exposed. Her feet started wobbling a bit, rocking to and fro on her heels as she waited. Or maybe it was Joy withdrawal. Either way, it sucked.

Her mind began replaying that frustrating moment days back when Jonas had dragged her out of the

bar. The argument with Jonas that had transpired was a blur, but...when they'd tried to meet up with Clarissa, _that _was clear as crystal, frozen and solidified in her mind. The scowl on the woman's face, the inflection in her voice when she'd told Alex off. Something about that instance had hurt more than usual.

'_But it's no real surprise, is it? Huh? You __**always **__let him down, right up until his fucking dying breath. Why stop now?'_

[ "Now, then. Miss Olas. Or do you prefer Alex?" ]

Alex's heart skipped as she inhaled sharply, waking from her cold memory as the Doctor's voice carried from the speakers above.

"Uh…Just-...Just Alex is fine," she replied, raising her voice as she had no idea if she could even be heard.

[ "No need to strain your vocal chords, Alex," ] the Doctor assured. [ "I can hear you." ]

"Right. OK…"

[ "Alex. In the survey Miss Shiina conducted, your responses conveyed a...certain sense of melancholy as of late. Have you suffered a noteworthy loss?" ]

"...What? I-I mean, I-...Sorry, I don't think I…-"

[ "A family member, perhaps? Have you recently lost someone you carried deep affections for?" ]

Alex swallowed, her throat narrowing as a cold sweat started to settle over her, made all the colder by her vulnerability, bare in a smock in a giant, desolate room.

"...Yea," she answered honestly.

[ "I see. While this may be...challenging, I'd ask you to dwell on the memory of this individual." ]

"Excuse me?" Alex's heartbeat quickened a little. What kind of…-?

[ "Who were they? What was their name?" ]

Alex nibbled a little at her lips as she struggled to understand what kind of study involved…-  
[ "Alex?" ]

"M-Michael. Their-...His name is-..._was..._Michael. He was my brother."

[ "Mm. Good. Yes." ]

The machine around Alex started whirring to life. Slowly, like a fire creeping up and over a pile of carefully placed logs.

[ "So, then. This...Michael," ] O'Deorain said, her voice strong enough through the sound system to carry through, despite the noise. [ "He is deceased?" ]

"Erh...Yea," Alex responded, off-put by the lady's indifferent tone.

[ "Cause of death?" ]

"...Excuse me?"

[ "What was the precise nature of his...passing?" ]

Brows furrowing a bit, Alex's eyes were darting nervously about the machine she was laying down in. She gazed up and down into the odd tube, its lights beginning to flick on. A fuzziness was gradually filling her senses, slowly but noticeably.

[ "Alex?" ]

"He drowned," Alex blurted bluntly.

[ "Mm. And how did this transpire?" ]

_I watched him die._

"I don't...see what this has to do with what y-"

[ "Exactly _how _did he expire, Alex? I need you to think on the events of that day." ]

"I-..." Alex huffed, squinting her eyes for a moment as she tried to collect herself. What kind of research was this, anyway? About grieving, or some crap? Because maybe she wasn't a fit for..._whatever _they were looking-

[ "Focus, please. The scan won't be accurate if we cannot align your thought processes properly." ]

"He _drowned_," Alex reinstated with some impatience. "I don't get what you…-" Trailing off bitterly, she gasped when the table she was on suddenly began to move toward the tube-shaped device it was attached to.

[ "Continue to dwell on what you remember," ] the Doctor said, raising her voice as Alex was shifted toward the machine. [ "Think about this 'Michael,' and what you recollect of his existence, and the connection you held to him. The machinery around you will get rather spirited for a moment. Do not be alarmed." ]

"Huh? What do you…-?"

Alex's eardrums suddenly popped as she was being slowly eased into the tube. A whirring, humming sound was slowly growing louder, louder.

[ "Michael, Alex! Think about Michael!" ] She could barely understand the Doctor through the increasing noise.

-VVVRRRRRRRR-

Good GODDESSES was this thing loud! She felt like her brain was going

to

./

..

…\

…/…..

..

\…..

..\

-..-\\-.-..

-.../...-

-.,-.-,,-\/==++

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

coughing, coughing, choking, full, plugged, couldn't couldn't couldn't

**pounding **against her back.

COUGHing out, breathing, trying trying trying

"̸W̕h̵o͘aa̡aa,̛ ͢ho͜-͏h̵o. Wh͟oa. ̨St̸ilļ w̸i̴t͡h m̢e,́ ́A̕ļe͠x?"

His voice was comforting in this scrambled mess of sensory overload.

"Yea. _Yea, _I-..._hurghkk..-!_" Coughing out more...water?

Wiping her wrist against her lips, Alex realized she was...in a bathing suit? Cold as fuck, too. Shivering.

"Get that stuff outta there," he said to her, his hand rubbing across her back. "C'mon. Breathe. Take it easy, don't panic. It's just some water."

She could sense him shuddering behind her from the cold.

"Michael?" Alex croaked.

Had that machine konked her out? Put her into some weird sleep, and now she was dreaming? When she tried to picture the environment around her, details wouldn't...come together. It was like she was just...drifting. Drifting in moonlight, above water. Cold.

"You're not controlling your breathing, is your problem," Michael advised. Casually. Like this was just something that was happening. _OK. All right. MMMM HM. Sure. _"You're holding your breath – that's a no-go. Rookie mistake."

"I-...Sh-Sure, yea, what…-?" Alex was so fucking confused.

She _knew _she knew this. This, whatever this. Place. Thing. Happened. But it wasn't right. Wasn't what it was, wasn't what it had been.

Michael's hands, though – those felt so real somehow, even though he...somehow didn't. When he touched her, even though he was cold, _she _was cold, there was like...a warmth. A spark. Or something?

"You _doing _OK? _Relax, _kiddo," Michael sighed, his thumbs pressing against her tense shoulder muscles.

"I'm-...I _can't_," Alex huffed, sagging her head. Wiping soaking brown hair from her face, she could feel her eyes glazing over in a heated rush of tears. Tears that came from no place, and would go no place.

Michael's hand continued to rub against her ocean-slick shoulders.

"Why _is _this?" she whimpered, absorbing every ounce of pressure her brother was placing into her back. Wrapping her quivering arms around herself, she sobbed a little. "What am I doing…-? And _you_…-?"

"_Shhhh, _sh-sh-sh," Michael eased, patting his fingertips against her gently before sliding his hand off. He sat down beside her on this damp, cold, whatever this was. "You just had a little scare, that's all. Guess it...maybe wasn't a good idea for you to go trying to dive into the deep end off the bat. I _did _warn you, to be fair. Buuuut you keep being stubborn, like always. And me, well, I keep being too soft and letting you get away with it."

Alex could finally _see _him. While the world around them was a foggy haze, he was there. _Him. _It had been so long since she'd seen him. But there he was. He looked…-

She didn't know. She couldn't tell.

"First mistake we've got to wane you off of is holding your breath," Michael went on. "Can't expect your muscles to keep working when they're not-...You know. Oxygen. Fuel. It'd be like stopping the pistons in an engine from moving when you're-...Anyway. You've gotta learn how to let yourself _breathe, _is what I'm saying."

Alex had just gaped at him while he spoke. Like this was just a _thing _that was _happening _when clearly it wasn't.

"This isn't _real_," she cited plainly. Coldly. With some bitterness, she added, "_You're _not real."

"_Ha. _Ouch. Yikes. I know I've been gone a long time, but...that _kinda _hurts, coming from you…"

"Cut the bullshit," Alex huffed, her fingernails digging into her crossed arms. "What-...? I mean, _what_

is this, exactly? A dream? Am I hallucinating?"

Michael squinted at her, lifting his chin slightly. "...Ah. I get it. This is an accident," he said thoughtfully.

When Alex shot back with a disbelieving puff of hot air and a flick of her wrist, he just nodded solemnly, letting his head bob.

"Accident?"

"That, uh," he was mumbling. "That actually-...You know, that makes sense. Really. I _thought_

something seemed off about you. About all this. Nevermind that you're _here _in the first place."

"**Michael,**" Alex huffed with a pointed shake of her head. "What. _Is. _This?"

"You tell _me_," Michael replied with a wary shrug. He rolled his neck around on his shoulders. Moonlight reflected off of his wet skin. Yet there was no moon. Not anywhere. "I mean, this is the first time anyone's evvvvmnmmmnnnn+++==_- -_-_-_-

..

..

…..  
….

.

.

.

.

.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\-

Nothing.

It was just nothing, now.

Waves. Slowly rolling waves of...nothing.

Up, down, every direction, as far as Alex could see.

She heard something. It sounded like...it _could _be words. But wasn't. Something in-between speech and noise.

" *** ***** *** "

Alex could _feel _a presence. Sort of like when Michael had just been with her, only...this was different. Michael had felt like a ghost, almost. This felt more like...a shadow. Something attached, intrinsically linked, yet formless, shapeless.

"Hello?" she attempted to speak with whatever it was. It attempted to speak back.

" ** * *** *** ***

** *** ****"

"I-..._Hello?_" Alex shouted, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. "Are you there? Is someone there?"

" ** ** * *** *

******* *** * "

But Alex couldn't make sense of it. Just...garbled...something. Drifting. She was still drifting. Still in her…-?

Why she was she still in her swimsuit?

She was in the ocean. Deep. Drifting. Couldn't breathe.

And there was...a submarine?

No, no. That didn't make any sense. Why was there...-?

The submarine burst into a flash of light and dark and sound, sending the ocean Alex was lost in rippling.

But there was still waves. Above and below.

Jacket.

She was in his jacket now, instead. Michael's letter jacket. Jeans. Boots. OK. Yea. That was right.

She was dry. Or maybe not. Maybe she'd never even been wet. She didn't really know. Had she even been cold? Was she cold now? Or maybe too warm?

The waves had stopped. Their strangely relaxing calm had stopped, too. Now it was just nothing without motion, which was...worse. Actually.

It was worse.

"Ha. So it's true. You _did _heed my advice, then." A new voice. One Alex didn't recognize.

And a face to go with it. A face in this mass of nothing. A person.

"Hello?" Alex tried to swim toward them, only to fall. She fell to a hard, cold, black floor. On her face.

"Ah. Ahaha." A gentle, endeared laugh from the feminine figure before her. "Right, yes. A bit odd, perhaps, to have lost sight of gravity, only to be shown what it is again. Then again…-" She walked toward Alex, who was fumbling to get up to her knees. "To have lost sight of something is not to have forgotten it."

Looking up, Alex felt the strangest tingle crawl up her spine.

There stood before her a woman of similar complexion and physique to her own. To Alex's senses, the woman felt...like Michael had, in a sense. Only where Michael had seemed like an illusion, a ghost, or something, this woman...felt real. Tangible, somehow. She was dressed in a slim denim jacket that went down to the waist, unzipped, with shredded black jeans and tall prairie boots. Her wrists were adorned with glowing rings and bracelets, jangling together. She wore a bandanna tied across her forehead, and her dark hair was taut up into...er, sort of a top knot? But it made a loop? Her lips were stained with a bright green lipstick that glowed in this strange, dark place they were in. Hell, the woman herself was...sort of glowing, in a way. Maybe?

Was Alex also glowing? She could see herself perfectly. Could see this woman perfectly. But there was no light anywhere.

Alex tried to look her in the eyes, but...round, thick shades tinted an eerie green covered the woman's face. A trail of sparkles and glitter peppered her cheeks, dripping down from where her eyes were.

"This _is _quite different than what I have grown accustomed to," the woman noted, slowly circling Alex as she spoke.

"Yea?" Alex replied, straightening her coat. "Well, lemme tell ya, this is _also _different from...fucking..._reality. _So-...So join the club, I guess."

A laugh spilled from the woman's nose as she continued her slow circling, her boots clapping elegantly against the glass-like floor they stood upon.

"You are more right than you know. Yet you seem so...discontent. I should've known you'd be nervous. Agitated. It makes sense. It does."

"Who _are _you?" Alex huffed, shoving fists into her pockets while glaring at the woman, who was not even looking at her. "Exactly?" she added, accentuating her impatience. "What is all this?"

The woman was suddenly right next to Alex, her strangely smooth fingers caressing Alex's cheek.

"I'm _surprised,_" the woman whispered, massaging the base of Alex's neck–_ooooOOOKKKAY _what the actual **fuck **was going on here was she having a horny wet dream was this all some weird kind of

kinky-

"They captured you more...wholly than I'd anticipated. I can sense how...complete you seem. _Hmm, _hm-hm." That humming laugh was unsettlingly mischievous. Having rotated herself around Alex, her fingers slid off the edge of Alex's padded shoulder.

As if coming to her senses, the woman paused, back to Alex, and dusted her hands on herself.

"Ha. You must forgive me, my dear Reader. It has been so long since they've sent me someone like you."

"Like-...Like me? What? I'm just-...I'm nobody. I'm just...a girl. Woman. I'm a woman. Just that."

Alex was still recovering from the bizarre sensation of this frisky-handed lady getting all over her.

"Exactly," said the woman. "Just a woman. In as much as you can be one, limited as you are."

'dear reader' Dear Reader?  
Wait. Waiiiiit wait wait wait.

"_Whoa, _hold up, wait-wait, did you call me '_reader' _a second ago? Like…-?"

The woman turned to face Alex at last, smiling sneakily.

"It _has _been fun playing with your naivete, but...our time _is _short. You see, we _do _know each other, Alex."

"You're...Sandra?" Alex concluded, though that...made no sense. She had no idea who Sandra really was, what she looked like, what she sounded like. She hadn't even really imagined those things yet, if she was being honest.

"I am," acknowledged the greenly-lit woman. She tipped her glasses down, revealing her eyes. Or, well, where her eyes should be. Instead, her eyes were shut, sealed or seared closed, from the look of it. A greenish goop that held her eyes closed was what trailed off into the glittery fragments smeared down her cheeks. "The Unseeing Sister," Sandra clarified, reciting her username from their chats.

"So...I-..." Alex, dumbfounded and annoyed at once, shrugged dully, her brows furrowed. "...Great. Cool. So I'm, what, like...repressing some kind of...attraction to you?" Flashing her palms around, Alex sarcastically spat, "Living it out in the dream world, here, or some crap? Making up some weird, what, sex fantasy? Is that what's going on here?"

Sandra burst out laughing, but quickly reigned herself in.

"You never fail to amuse me. Paradoxical_Alex. Hm-hm. Lovely Reader, turned visitor."

"Don't-...!" Alex's eyelids fluttered indignantly. It was like an insult, to be called that. 'Lovely.'

Especially by someone who didn't even know her. By some _dream version _of someone who didn't even know her? Even worse. "Stop with the fucking...the...fffff-...No more of this flirting shit, all right?"

Alex walked up, bumping Sandra on the shoulder brusquely as she walked off into...nothing.

Alex ranted, "Wooo, mysterious seducer, manifestation of...whatever repressed _shit_. I want off this creepy sex-dream train. We can just hop off the tracks _right _here. I am _so _not in the mood for this. And _why _is this kind of stuff happening _right _after I re-live…-?! This is gross. And weird. And fucking…-"

Alex was flicking her hands around as she ranted, pacing aimlessly through the nothing, when she was stopped by Sandra's inhumanly smooth hand grasping against her arm. She wrestled herself out of the creepy facade's grip.

"Don't _touch _me!" Alex shrieked. "Don't-..."

Sandra sighed, creasing her forehead.

"My apologies, Alex. I-...Please, understand, this is very new to me. Or perhaps very, _very _old. This..._courtesy. _Friendship. Companionship. Well, perhaps not _entirely _new, but given my perspective, it-..."

Sandra drizzled out a tired breath, her entire form sagging some.

"I am over-excited, I will admit that," she said, her face gloomily fixed toward the floor. "For so _very _long, my experiences with others – whether on my side _or _yours – they have...not been terribly engaging."

"_I'm _not terribly engaging," Alex spat, frustrated by, what, her own subconscious trying to make her feel special? "I'm a fucking junkie _drop out _with more anxiety issues than I can count, and-and _this _whole, _this. _This whatever _this _fucking is, it is _not _helping, it is-"

Alex's hands, flying to and fro, were stopped, caught deftly in Sandra's unseeing grip, pinched at the wrists.

"Please. My lovely, dear Alex."

"_Just _Alex. Do _not _call me that. 'Lovely,' 'dear,' _none _of that. What the _fuck?_"

For Nayru's sake, this woman was being weirdly clingy! Was that what Alex's, like, inner desire _was _Clingy, overly pushy with the flirting, and…-?

"Yes. Yes, yes. I am...being too eager, I suppose. Right. Truthfully, I no longer understand how this..._social _aspect functions anymore." She slowly lowered Alex's arms, but remained holding onto them. "Maybe I've changed, maybe _people _have changed, with regard to this. _Am _I 'people', anymore? I try to think so, when I speak with those very few I know from your side. But I am unsure, honestly. And even so, they are all-..."

Sandra paused. She chuckled softly.

"Amusing," she said in spite of herself. "To say half a thought before processing it. This is what it's like, isn't it?"

"Uh…"

"So _many _things to calculate, all at once, when it is like this: face-to-face."

Oooookayyyy, so whatever kind of dream this was, Alex was ready to wake up. Really.

"Look, uh, 'Sandra,' I..._really _want to get out of here."

Sandra let go of Alex's hands. And Sandra fell eerily quiet.

"So-..." Alex swallowed. "So if you could just..._show _me the way out…"

Sandra's hands latched themselves over her own sides. Her brows curved with melancholy for a moment, then she regained her composure.

"Please, Alex. I would ask that you talk with me. Just talk. While we still can. Before you're gone."

"I…-" Alex was _not _in the mood. She wanted to wake up. "So I _am _gonna get to leave soon. Then."

Sandra was still for a moment, then nodded.

"Well, uh…-" Alex gaped around at all the...nothing. Then back at Sandra. What else was there to do,

anyway? "OK. So." She bit her lip, shrugging wildly. "Whhhhhat did you wanna talk about?"

"You," Sandra replied simply. "Forgive my...over-exertions. It has been _far _too long, you see, and-..." Sandra trailed off, then laughed under her breath again. "Yes. Right. Just talking. Please. Please, tell me about you. Tell me about Alex Olas the Paradoxical."

Stuffing her hands back in those big coat pockets, Alex took a big breath of...whatever nothing she was breathing. She exhaled. Was she even breathing, here? Well, like, duh, of course she was, she was asleep. Why was she asleep, again? Where had she...-? Ah, right. Brain scan experiment whatever.

Maybe they were studying dreams? Nightmares? Had they used some kind of gas to knock her out? She _did _remember reading in the terms that unconsciousness might occur...but she felt like they would've _warned _her about this...

But this 'Sandra' was tugging at her heartstrings with the edges of fingernails, plucking playfully and with a certain sorrow Alex couldn't pinpoint but could relate to.

"You wanna know about Alex?" she said, looking back to Sandra, who could not look at her. "Haven't I _told _you about Alex?" Maybe if she found contradictions, the logic would snap this nonsense dream out of existence.

"You have told me bits and pieces," said Sandra. "I know...that you are not on pleasant terms with your family. I know you are angry with a 'Clarissa.' I know you failed to complete your education. And I know that your brother died some time ago. A year prior to now, thereabouts."

"I watched him die."

Alex said the words bluntly. Let them hang in the nothing.

Why she had said this, she wasn't sure. Maybe she was just in a blunt mood. Impatient. Wanting to wake from this weird...thing.

Sandra was intrigued, her head tipping and tilting with curiosity. So Alex elaborated. She had a morbid interest to do so.

Alex wanted to dwell on it. Discuss it. So she did.

"It was the last night of the summer. Before I was going back to college. Before he was moving on with his life – 'adult' life, whatever _that _even means." Alex had done air-quotes, only to realize that Sandra couldn't see them. "I wanted to go swimming out in the Bay. We'd talked about it for ages, but we'd never done it. I, uh-...I never actually learned how to swim. Sort of a problem when you want to-...Ah. Anyway. He was supposed to teach me. But...-" Her head slid awkwardly, to and fro as she spoke slowly. "He...never got around to it. Things always got in the way, or-...or I would chicken out,

and-...And so, I, um, I...sorta...guilted him. One night. I mean, I had no idea when I'd ever get to see him again, right? So of course I needed to spend what little time was left. Well." Water was starting to fill her eyes. She sniffed, tipped her head slightly, and spitefully grumbled, "Little did I know."

Alex needed a second to gather herself. Brushing tears away from her eyes before they could fall, she found it odd that when she did, her wrist was still dry. And then she realized something very uncomfortable – she was back in her swimsuit. That black one-piece she'd gotten rid of, still clinging to her, still haunting her. It would be weird and embarrassing to be wearing it now, but...Sandra couldn't see, right? And this was all just some weird-ass...subconscious whatever, and...-

"Little did you know?" Sandra prodded, now floating with her legs crossed, like...like some monk or something, only with much lazier posture. Her cheek was in her palm, elbow on her knee. She looked relaxed yet intent on what Alex had to say. "You blame yourself?" she wondered. "For his death."

"Uh," Alex practically coughed out, "_**FFF!**_ _Yea?! _Everyone _else _does," she cried, flashing out her arm. Her lip quivering, she crossed her own legs to sit down, and...oddly, ended up at the same height Sandra was. It did not feel like floating. Or what she'd imagine floating to feel like?

"And why is that?" Sandra asked. "You've self-deprecated many times about Michael in our talks. He always comes up, one way or another. Typically, it ends with you hating yourself about something. It is, truthfully, part of why you are here: you cannot seem to allow yourself to let go of him. You cannot let go of your perceived connection _to _him. But...why do you harbor self-hate alongside it? Such a thing is utterly useless, in every sense."

"I _watched _him _die,_" Alex repeated from earlier, her hands clenching around her knees. "And I didn't-...couldn't _do _anything about it."

"Mm. What was it like?" Sandra asked. "Watching his life end, that is." Alex's eyes widened at this morbid question, then narrowed. "Could you elaborate on it for me?"

Stiff. Frozen. So, so cold. Every muscle shaking, but only slightly. Vibrations of the worst sort. Like her entire body was on the wrong frequency.

Waves rolling in. Rolling out. His arms thrashing against them. Gurgles, gasps. Sounds from his lips – somewhere in-between words and noise. All the while, she couldn't move. Couldn't act. Well, she _could _have. But she didn't. What _could _she do? Dive in after him, only to sink herself? That night, in that moment, something had gone wrong. Malfunctioned. In him. In Michael. But also in Alex.

She had never quite re-tuned herself back to the right frequency since that moment.

"It was quiet," Alex replied to Sandra's question. "Just...quiet, I guess. Everything – the world – it just...kept on..._existing_. Like nothing had changed. But _everything _had."

"Mm," Sandra hummed knowingly after a contemplative pause. "Yes. Yes, that sounds about right. I try to remember what it was like, but...I cannot seem to. Not exactly."

Alex was left puzzled again. She wasn't getting this. If this was a dream, why was she so...lucid? She could remember what had happened before this, and was certain she'd remember this when she woke. But if it was a hallucination, _wowholyshit _was it some strong stuff, but then, she didn't _take _anything (much as she might have liked that recently), so what was the deal?

And why was this vision, this illusion, or whatever it was, of Sandra-...Why was she saying such weird shit? Like, yea, she was weird, Alex kinda liked that about her when they chatted, but this was like, more weird. Not in a good way. And all the weird creepy touchy-feely-flirty shit? She was _not _liking it.

"Why are you here?" Alex asked. "I mean, if I'm just hallucinating, or dreaming, or goddesses know what, why is it _you_?"

Sandra shifted her position a bit, her face still pointed off in some other direction. She smiled slowly.

"You know, Alex, my Reader...I have been asking myself the same exact question about you for days. Why is it that _you _are the onewho has fallen into my lap in this way?"

"Uh...OK." That hadn't been a useful answer. But if she really was conversing with a figment of her own imagination, what could she expect?

"You desire explanation," Sandra derived. "I could attempt to give it, but...-" She sighed in a weird way, her head lulling over one knee. "-...in truth, it would be a waste of time."

"Why?" Alex wondered.

"Let's not lose precious moments worrying over what cannot be undone," Sandra insisted. Yea, so, _that _totally didn't make Alex uneasy as fuck...

"What's going to happen?" Alex pressed, ignoring Sandra's request.

"You-..." She paused, pressing one hand over her lips. "Ha. And there it is again. Beginning to speak out a premature thought. So interesting..."

"And _why _are you being so fucking _weird, _anyway?" Alex puffed, her patience like cracked ice.

"I...-" Sandra was caught off guard. "Am I?" She laughed, adjusting her sitting position upright. "Perhaps I am. Yes. Unsurprising, really. I can try, hard as I may, and yet...-" She paused to chuckle through her nose. "-...my separation has not been without consequence..."

"Hello? Yea, still here. I know you can't see me, apparently – dunno why we're being literal with your handle, by the way – but I am _still _here. Still confused as hell about what you're talking about."

Sandra's expression turned sour – briefly – before reforming into a neutral stance.

"You aren't real," Sandra blurted bitterly. "Not in the traditional sense. Not in the sense that matters to you, I suspect."

"I-...Uhhh...-" Now Alex was caught off guard. "Well, sure, I'm not..._really _here, in some fucking..._void _of nothing. I'm not _really _talking with you, and I wasn't _really _talking with my _dead _brother right before you showed up. So. Yea."

Sandra crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her head, chin up, before letting her skull tip slightly.

"Those things happened, Alex. This conversation is happening. Something is something. And yet...-" Sandra leaned back, her body still floating, her legs still crossed. She was upside-down now, her back to Alex, her hair dangling against the glass-like floor of black beneath them. "-...how can one be satisfied with anything less than the genuine article?"

Alex gaped at upside-down Sandra for a moment, eyes wide, then shook her head and scratched at her neck.

"Remind me to never invite you out for drinks," Alex lamented. "You'd be a real buzzkill."

"A what? Shouldn't I know? Ah, wait...-" Sandra snapped her finger.

Alex blinked, bemused.

And Sandra was suddenly not there anymore.

And when Alex blinked again, Sandra _was _there again, facing upright. Facing her. Those green-tinted, thick, round glasses were somehow reflecting Alex's perplexed expression back at her, despite no apparent source of light anywhere in this place.

"You truly think I would be?" Sandra posed. "A 'buzzkill?' Perhaps all of this time stuck here really _has_

deteriorated me more than I'd prefer to admit."

"You are _not _helping your case right now, Sandy."

"...Sandy? _Ha. _Are you irritated with me, or trying to make me feel better?"

"To be honest, I...don't even know," Alex confessed. "A little of both, I guess."

"Sandy. Hm. Not my preference, but then, I suppose existing as you currently do isn't _yours. _And yet, here you are."

"Heeere I am," Alex slowly parroted. "Existing. Apparently."

"Yes," Sandra agreed, her tone getting glum again. "For now. Not much longer, I'd wager."

"I finally get to wake up from this shit?" Alex posed, lifting up a palm before letting it slap back down on her thigh.

Sandra's expression went odd, like she was trying to decipher what Alex meant. "Alex, _I _am not real, either."

"Yeeeeeeaa. Like we...previously established. None of this is."

"No, this is happening. But you are not _really _you. And _I _am not real. Not in...-"

"Not in the 'traditional sense,' whatever _that _fucking means."

"I do not possess a body."

"Well, I'm sure the _real _you does, I just have no idea what you _really _look like."

"No, no. This _was _what I looked like. When I had one."

"Had what?"

"A body."

"Oh."

Something about the matter-of-factness of how Sandra was saying crap like this – combined with how lucid and _long _this dream felt, it was beginning to turn unsettling. Alex desperately found herself wanting to remember all of this so she could have some laughs with Ren about it. Assuming Ren was willing to speak with her, after how she'd acted last time. Fuck, she _missed _him. She missed Ren. Of all people to miss. Her life really _was _swirling down the shitter, huh?

"Am I losing you already?" Sandra checked.

"Huh? No, I-...Sorry, you said you didn't have a _body? _Doesn't make sense for someone I've been chatting with in real life."

Sandra clarified, "I am the very same Sandra you've been speaking with. The words I've sent you, they _are _mine. They are real, the conversations we've shared. It is a feat, I assure you, to enable me to do such a thing. And yet, here I am, stuck in this place, alone in many regards, outside of your plane. And _you_? Well, you-..." A sigh. "Hah. I cannot help but indulge in your questions, and yet...nothing I explain will matter to you moments from now."

"Why not? Will I forget?"

"One cannot forget if one does not exist."

"...OK?" Alex shrugged.

"Alex, you are not _really _you. You are...-" Sandra's face frowned as she tried to explain. "Your existence is like a light in a lantern. Bright, vivid, illuminating, but...temporary. You are not the oil you burn. You are the result of the reaction."

Alex was blinking dumbly, trying to make sense of this.

"You seem to think you are dreaming about me," Sandra noted. "When the truth of things is...perhaps more the opposite."

A̘̰̗̜̜͉̫l̗̠̫̻ͅḛx̻ ̝su̬͕̰̺d̳d̲͔͉̦̳̝̗e̱̤n̫͉̜͍l̗͉̖̱̦y͇̳̩̺̪̯̦ ͈͉̪̮̺f͎̫e̯̼̼͕̰̣̟ḽ͎͈̩̟t̙̱̞͇̝..̙̫̼͙̮̘.̣̣̬͇͚͚̠w̙͚͔̲̖r̘͎̹̤̤̱o̜̰̮͔̥͇n̝͇͇͕̦͈g̮ͅ.̻͉̻͚̩͙ ̼N͈̹̟̳̠̤̙u̮͉̯̞̥ͅm͖͉b̜͔͓.͚̱͍͔͍͉͉

She watched herself move her hand up to her face, as if to study it more closely and confirm her own physicality, her own presence. As if that mattered, either way. But she couldn't _feel _her hand, her arm. She'd stopped breathing. She had no heartbeat. She pressed her fingertips around at her neck, unable to feel neither her skin nor a pulse.

"You won't remember this conversation," Sandra lamented, "because the Alex I am speaking to is...temporary. An echo, of sorts. A ripple in the pond I am exiled to."

"I...-" Alex was feeling dizzy. She fell from her floating position before Sandra. She could only tell she'd fallen because she could at least still see – mostly.

"I _am _sorry," Sandra said, her words still clear in Alex's ears when all other senses were fading. "I had honestly thought this would be more enjoyable for us both. I shouldn't have dwelt on these questions so much, but...I couldn't help it. You were quite stubborn in asking them. You seem so lost. It goes to show how naive I must be, despite the circumstances. I _do _still believe you will prove to be different, Alex. My dear Reader. Not special, in the literal sense, perhaps. But you _do _seem to be exactly what we've been looking for. And maybe, with my help, you could become special in the literal sense. The sense I know you long for."

"...Suh...-" was all Alex could utter through her lips, which had stopped cooperating.

"Our capacity has about reached its limit," Sandra noted. "I appreciate the time you spent with me, at least. This _could _have gone much worse. It usually does. We will have a lot to study and consider because of this conversation. Because you existed, briefly as you did. A leaf, parted from its tree, descending to earth on a brisk wind, landing in a pond. Ripples."

Alex was _so _confused. And she felt awful somehow. Wrong. S͝he ̀cóu͘ldn';t͝ ͘expl̀n ͡ho͜w j͜us͞t͡ ҉th̶t ͢ever͠t̴h̕n̵g ͡w͝aş ́W҉R̨OŃG ̴n̛on̶o ̡n͏o no wha͟t̀ ͝ẃ a ͝s ̢w̸.́h.͞ý.̕?̵?͟/̧/͡ ͠NO.̡ ͏shed̀ ke̸e͡p҉ e x҉ I̵ ̴s T ̸I n ̸G͜ a̷s l ͜o̶ n g̢ as

.

..

…  
….

…..

…

[ -Data Transfer Complete- ]

Doctor O'Deorain took note of the upload, setting her clipboard of scribbled observations aside. She accessed the communication application. She typed a message.

-( That took you longer than usual. )

-( How did the preliminary assessment fare? )

Her reply came through immediately.

( She will serve your needs, Dr. )-

( The results were even more accurate than your estimations. )-

O'Deorain couldn't help but smile. That was a relief.

-( Grand. Please get straight to work analyzing the scan. )

Before she could pick her notes back up, she received a curious followup.

( Yes, Doctor. )-

( I must ask, however, if the patient is all right. )-

O'Deorain was intrigued by this question. Sandra never expressed intent regarding a subject's well being. Not since-...Well, that had been some time ago. And this junkie dropout could not compare. So there was precedent to give pause. And besides, as much as O'Deorain _did _wonder about the true nature of one such as Sandra, she still found it hard to believe it could legitimately _feel _things, given its state. If so, however, such a development could drastically affect their current state of affairs.

Moira O'Deorain took a moment to study the skull-sized glass orb hooked into the unit before her. Still no light emitted from it. Nothing unusual about its appearance or its readings. Hm. Curious. But also worrying. The core was meant to glow a pale green, but with the deterioration of Miss Olas' echo, the light within the core had faded.

-( The patient's status needn't concern you, Sandra. )

-( But if it will affect your efficiency, then I will say that the subject appears to be fine. )

Sandra responded.

( Thank you, Doctor. )-

( I will forward the data to you when it has been looked over. )-

The Doctor waited in case Sandra had more to say, but that did not appear to be the case. She jotted another note down.

{ - Sandra concerned about patient's well-being? }

{ (keep an eye on this) }

With this whole matter concluded, O'Deorain sifted the proper files around, sorting them out for analysis. She flicked at buttons and dials and switches, turning off their shiny new toy and freeing this poor, ignorant soul from its oppressive function.

The patient table slowly slid out from within the scanning chamber, and O'Deorain craned her head a bit to look out the window – yes, the patient was indeed still a solid, singular unit. She looked uncomfortable and groggy, as she squirmed a bit.

O'Deorain held down the button near her microphone and spoke into it. "It's all right, Miss Olas. You may rise. We are finished."

The girl's voice came through the speaker nearby, tinny but easily legible.  
[ "Wait, really? That wasn't so bad." ]

The Doctor chuckled to herself before pressing the mic button to answer. "Indeed. Painless, was it not?"

[ "Yea! I mean, I think I might've dozed off a bit, but otherwise..." ]

"Any unpleasant sensations during the scan?"

[ "I don't..._think _so. When the thing started up I felt a little weird for a sec, sort of, like, queasy? But I feel fine now." ]

The Doctor paused, fidgeting her skinny fingers together as she considered what came next with all of this. There was still so much to be done, and in such a short time. But at least the initial hurdle – the one that felt most out of their control – had been cleared. Sandra had been correct in her assertions about this one. She did seem intimately tied to someone from the Other Side, at least, and even the signal strength between her and Sandra was uncannily potent.

Moira noticed the patient was up from the table, looking a bit addled.

Moira hit the mic button, advising, "Please gather your clothing. I'll dispatch Miss Urushibara to collect you, and you will receive your compensation for today's participation."

As the girl went about putting her garish attire back on, she checked, [ "So, uh...does that mean we're...gonna keep doing these?" ]

Moira punched in a quick text message to the aide who'd escorted this patient in, requesting she be picked up.

She replied into the mic as she texted. "That is not assured as of yet, but it _does _appear likely. You will be contacted soon."

[ "R-Right, got it." ] The odd creature was nearly falling over trying to get her boots on. Peculiarly plain, this one. But the readings O'Deorain had caught during the scan did not lie. Sandra's judgment seemed sound. And certainly, the more plain and unassuming the subject, the better. Just in case.

The door to the research facility they were currently in swung open – sooner than expected – and a colleague entered the hall – _later _than expected. It was not Miss Urushibara, no. It was her dosser of a partner, finally come to work, now that the bulk of things was wrapped up. She watched the short, round blob of a Doctor waddle his way in, hands in his lab coat pockets. Grinning like a fool, he nodded to their clueless patient, who looked just as baffled as expected. They exchanged no words, and the bumbling man made his way upstairs to the control room.

"heya moira," he greeted with his default slouching.

Unceremoniously, he lumbered to his wheeled chair at her side and slumped into it.

"so. how'd it go? she a keeper?"

"You're a real chancer, Gaster," Moira bitterly grumbled.

"probably," he replied with his trademarked shrug of indifference.

"Makise may be bringing the hammer down upon you if you keep this up. Do you _want _to be fired?"

Doctor Gaster sniffed, smacking his chops, and yawned.

Scratching at his round belly, he replied, "less work doesn't sound so bad. really."

"A real gas man, eh?" Moira seethed at him, watching as he spun around in his chair, glancing at her clipboard of notes. Hunched over her computer, she prepared to send the data they'd just collected to Makise. She grumbled over her shoulder, "A _riot, _you are, Sans. Truly."

"hm." Flipping the pages of O'Deorain's notes back, he carelessly dropped the clipboard on the table where he'd found it. "looks like this new kid'll work. nice." He nodded slowly. He reached for a mug of room temperature coffee that had been sitting there all afternoon and drank a sip from it. Charming...

"Yes," Moira agreed dully, watching the upload bar fill. Slowly. "Sandra believes she will suffice."

"yep," Sans muttered with a slow nod. "looks right." He was spinning in his chair again. Ugh.

"This means I'll require your _presence _for future appointments with this subject."

"probably," said Sans, sticking up one shoulder with a snarky twinkle in his eye.

Her patience wafer thing, Moira testily posed, "Was I _mistaken _in my assertion that you still _cared_

about this?"

"nope."

"Can I depend on you to do your _job, _then?"

"maybe."

Moira's eyelids fluttered with bridled frustration.

"welp." Sans popped up out of the chair with a grunt. "guess i oughtta check on valkyrie. be back soon. prolly."

Moira stopped him at the door, hands folded behind her back. Staring down at him cautiously, she expressed one last thought.

"I understand any trepidation you might feel given your...condition. But I _know _you, Gaster. You are a scientist at heart. I have lost myself in this work, as well. I implore you to stop this messing about. We must all make sacrifices in the name of science."

Sans' typically calm and cheerful demeanor turned cold for a moment. He still wore a smile, but his eyes had a hollowness to them.

"sacrifices, huh."

But he wasn't in the mood to discuss it. So he didn't. And he left.

That girl with the bright hair was standing around by the machine she'd been dunked in. She looked OK.

"U-Um...-?" she tried to talk with him. He wasn't in the mood. So he didn't talk back. And he left. He passed by Ruka in the hall. She greeted him but he didn't pay attention to what was said.

He made his way to the elevator. He tiredly made the effort pressing the button for the floor he wanted to visit. He waited on the elevator, the best part of any day here at FutureGadget. He passed by the ol' boss lady, who was in a rush, but still felt the need to try and have an argument with him. Only he wasn't in the mood. So he didn't pay attention. Not worth the energy right then. Thankfully, whatever she was off to go do was more important than him.

He entered his destination. Another room similar to the one Moira had been in. But a much different personality was working here.

A round lady with freckles. Thick-rimmed glasses. A spiky bun of bushy blonde hair. She was quietly clicking at her computer.

"heya al."

"_Humm-? _O-Oh, Sans! Hi."

Heh. She'd really been into her work, huh? Hadn't even noticed him coming in. Almost spilled her drink.

"how's, uh...-" Sans glanced through the tinted window at the subject in the room beyond. "-...things?"

Alphys sighed. She rubbed her short fingers against her eyes. She yawned.

"N-Not the best, she's still-..._Bleh. _Well, um, I mean, y-you know how it's been."

"...yep."

Sans was peering out at the girl strapped to the table in the next room. Lotta wires. Couldn't hear her. But he could see. She was screaming. Lotta pain.

"whatcha gonna do with her?" Sans asked.

Alphys sighed, clawed at itch on her scalp, and slumped back in her chair. "Hououin wants me to keep, um...m-monitoring her, just in case..."

"...but."

"_But. _I-I'm not sure what else we can do, unless-...Unless, I mean, if Project Rán helps, sh-shed some light on...-"

"'n the cops are lookin' at it now. so."

"Wh-_What?_"

Sans dully glanced at Alphys. She looked all surprised.

"whatcha expect? couple girls go missin', no one's gonna look?"

"B-B-But Hououin said...they were...-"

"nobodies?"

"I, um...-" Poor Al was fallin' apart. Maybe shouldn'ta said something. But. Better for her to know. In case. "O-Oh, this could be...-"

"no use worryin'. what's done is done. 'cept it ain't done yet. so."

He watched the girl stuck on the table stop thrashing. Gasping for air, whimpering. Relaxing. Poor kid. But this work was more important than one poor kid. Or even seven poor kids. Or was it eight...?

Sort of a bummer. Either way. But had to be done.  
Probably.

Not like Sans could stop what he'd started at that point, anyway. So.

Sans spotted a report on the table beside Alphys' tea mug. Plastic bag with that coffee cup lid from before.

He picked up the report. Glanced at it. Saw that his hunch was right. Couldn't be bothered with the details.

"so. you checked this for me?" he prodded, dropping the folder of files back onto the table.

"_Oh! _Yes, yes-yes. Not a lot of DNA to work with, but, um...e-enough. It was enough, yes."

"came back positive, huh?"

Alphys sipped at her tea. Stuck up a finger. Nodded. Hummed. "_Mm! _Chr-Chronal Disassociation. Yes."

Sans thought on this a sec. He wondered.

"Wh-...Whose DNA _is _that?" Alphys asked. "A new patient? Will we be working w-with Winston again?" Seemed excited. Her and that doc got along ok.

Sans shrugged.

"don't worry 'bout it. not important right now."

"...Oh." Alphys looked sad. Go figure.

"said don't worry. i'm sure the big guy'll be back with us soon."

_Especially if all this stuff goes to plan._

The entry door to the control room slowly creaked open. The boss-man walked in. Tall. Skinny. Looked like crap. Thin beard. Dirty. Eyes sunk in. Hair slicked back. Real happy guy.

"Gaster. Alphys." He greeted with a tired tilt of his head. "How goes our Valkyrie?"

"H-Hououin, sir," Alphys bid, fumbling her hands with her clipboard. "I-I, um, I've been monitoring her as you-...as you said, and, um...-"

"she don't look great," said Sans.

Hououin rubbed at his thin beard. Looked out at the girl.

"Let me have a word with her," he said. All dramatic-like. Always the showman.

"Are...-?" Alphys gaped at Sans. He shrugged. "Are you sure th-...that's a good idea? Sir?"

Hououin glared at her. Dead look to him.

"After everything _else_, you'd question if something so mundane is...'a good idea?'"

"R-Right! S-s-sorry, Sir! N-No problem, I'll, uh, I'll just...-" Alphys was smacking at buttons and switches.

-RRNNNNNK!-

Door unlocked. The boss-man went inside.

_**-RRNNNNNK!-**_

The door locked behind him. She was looking at him. Fiery death in her eyes, no doubt. He watched the muscles in her deceptively thick arms flex as she struggled against her restraints.

"_Where is he?!_" she snarled at him. Her words splintered the very air around them, their impact quickly tempered by the padded walls. "_I __**saw **__him! Where __**is **__he?!_"

She screeched at him through a worn throat. But he stood fast, unmoved by her intensity. He was no longer shaken by it. No, no. Koyuma Hououin had gotten used to it these past couple weeks. She was a fighter, to be sure. In every sense of the word. This was good. They needed a fighter.

But they needed her on their side, or the entire thing would be forfeit.

He cleared his throat as she growled through clenched teeth, struggling uselessly against her restraints. Her wrists and ankles were reddened, bruised and agitated from all of her fussing. She'd need to be treated again later. He'd have Ruka see to it.

Hououin approached the young woman with caution, hands in the pockets of his pristine lab coat. The rest of him _within _said coat could do with some work, but...he never underestimated the power of a lab coat. A strangely intimidating attire in the right circumstances. He couldn't think of any circumstances more befitting of this intimidation, aside from some massive bulbed devices whirring electricity about the place, swirling chemicals in spiraled tubes. They had no need for these, given the current project, though he did miss the sights and sounds of them a bit.

Despite the clean, safe conditions, however, the truth was unhindered. Kyouma Hououin was a mad scientist. Leering over the mess of a girl before him, Hououin narrowed his eyes.

Testily, he asked her, "Who is...'_he?_'"

Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"_Dillion_," she hissed through grit teeth. "Where...is _Dillion?_"

Hououin's brows lowered slowly.

He replied.

"You _know _where he is. You say you..._saw _him?"

Her breath getting ragged the longer she stared through him, the girl's eyes rolled sideways with irritation.

"You don't _believe _me," she lamented bitterly. "But I _did _see him. I swear I did."

"Oh, I _do _believe you," Hououin placated. "But _we _did _not _see him. And yet, we know he was here. A conundrum, begging to be deciphered. A riddle, aching for an answer. And you will help us solve that puzzle, Senua." He bent over, inches from her wide, bloodshot eyes. He whispered impatiently, "But you can't help your precious 'Dillion,' _nor _can you help yourself, if you refuse to help _us._"

She growled at him, flinching her head up at him. Their foreheads knocked together, her grimy sweat staining his skin. He did not flinch, absorbing the contact, absorbing her pain and anger.

"How can I help _anyone _if I am _stuck _here?" she growled through her teeth.

Lifting his head back up and wiping the sweat from his face, he sighed, shaking his head.

"Our own specially selected Ragnarök bears down upon us. My compatriots and I hold fast against the only gate stopping a cataclysm from invading. We require einherjar, Senua. We require our _Valkyrie. _Do you not _recall _what transpired in Caelondia? Do you _wish _it to happen here, as well?"

"I don't _care_," Senua huffed, slamming the back of her head stubbornly against the table. She creaked her head to the side, giving him a sadistic smile. "_Where. __**Is. **__Dillion?_"

"What about that girl you were with? Hm? You don't seem so concerned about _her._"

"She's _fine._"

"And how do you know that?"

"I. _Know._"

Her eyes were bold and confident. Interesting. He would have to check in with their correspondents at Zaibatsu, see how their end of research was panning out.

"Might I make a proposition?" Hououin offered.

Senua huffed air through her nostrils, biting her lip and shaking her head. Hououin proceeded.

"If we let you see him – your 'Dillion' – give you a proper...visit..._then _will you offer us your aide? Briefly, at least. Sort of a...trial period. It stands to reason we can mutually benefit each other."

Senua stared at him with doubt. Good. They needed her to be doubting, surely.

"You _do _know where he is," she concluded with disdain.

"We _both _know where he is," Hououin brushed her accusatory remark aside. "So I ask you – do you wish to see him? Under these terms? Or shall we continue as we were?"

Her eyes were welling up suddenly. Her hands were flexing in and out of fists. Her palms had red marks, fingernails having dug tightly into her own skin. She bumped the back of her head against her table repeatedly, huffing and sobbing with a smoking, ember-like fury. Small, contained, but with the potential to ignite at any second.

He waited. He watched. Every ounce of pain, every sliver of suffering. This was all on him to bear. Kurisu, too, perhaps, but as usual, she was simply following the science, following the curiosity.

But Hououin, he was a sadist. Fascinated by anguish. Numb to his own, drawing life from watching others submerged in it. A mad scientist.

"Do you wish to _see him_?" Hououin loudly repeated himself, when he thrashing had gotten irritating.

"_Yes!_" Senua whimpered out at last. "Yes..."

And the sobbing. Always the part he couldn't bear, somehow. He turned to the tinted glass. He nodded at it.

_**-RRNNNNNK!-**_

The door unlocked, and he re-entered what resembled sanity in his current world.

_**-RRNNNNNK!-**_

The door locked, resealing their subject.

"U-Umm...-" Alphys, ever the blathering mess, seemed uneasy. "Sh-Shall I...make preparations, then?"

"Yes," Hououin decreed.

"Inform Makise. Gather Ruka to assist you with her transport."

"Yessir," Alphys agreed, fumbling around. "To-...To the Anomaly, then? That's where we're taking her."

Hououin nodded sternly. "Indeed. You'll need the...artifact she had with her, as well. Don't forget it. She may not be able to reach him without it."

He turned to Sans, who had been quickly becoming a source of confusion and disappointment. A shame what had happened, indeed, but they all had their sacrifices, their losses, to deal with, and their possible redemption to claim. Why was he so unmotivated?

"Doctor Gaster."

"yea?"

"Collect O'Deorain. Bring her up to speed on the change of plans today. I'll oversee Project Rán personally for the afternoon. We need her expertise, as well as yours, to get the Anomaly to cooperate with us. It's been...fickle, as of late."

Sans' expression was wry and sly and disinterested, all at once. His brows bobbed up and down once.

"you got it, boss-man."

Everyone went about their designated tasks.

Kyouma Hououin would go about his.  
It was the will of that cursed gate.

And Hououin, exhausted as he was, returned to his office. On the way back, his phone buzzed. The sensation still gave him unsettling vibes on occasion, even now, after all this time.

[ From: E. Sobeck ]

[ My access is still limited. But at least they're letting me use e-mail again. ]

[ I don't have much time right now. But please feel free to update me on things. ]  
[ I will read asap. ]

Hm. That reply had taken much longer than Hououin would've preferred. 'Limited access' indeed. It had taken, what, two weeks for a response? Three, maybe? Much as he wished it, relying on her for advice on these matters was not an option. Not with the timetable they were on.

Hououin was too tired to reply right then. He hid his phone back away, entered his office, and collapsed into his chair. He gazed across the way at Makise's desk. Tidier than his own, to be sure. She seemed to be holding herself together much better than her husband.

He glanced at the docked tablet on his desk. Switched off. Good. He needed a moment to collect himself first. Leaning back into his fancy desk chair, he soaked in the delightful silence. He wondered how much longer this road would last. How much more pavement was required. How much more they pavement they had _left_.

Deplorable things, what they were doing. Inhumane things, to and with inhumans. One could not know what the future held. Hence, its potential was infinite.

But if he wanted to grant his own wish, he should clear his own path to it.

And so he was. So they all are, consequences be damned. And they _were _damned.

In his exhaustion, his knee bumped the desk. The slight movement awoke his tablet. He gaped at his lock screen – an old photo from a bygone age, depicting him and his merry band of cohorts, back in the early days of FutureGadget's founding.

Cheerful, excited faces. Naive to what awaited them.  
He had a few notifications, clouding the view to the treasured memories within the photo.

[ Sandra - Project Rán Premilin. . . ]

[ Christina – His tardiness is beco. . . ]  
[ **1 Missed Call **– Mayuri ]

Ah. He was late, having missed his lunch-time call. She'd be upset with him, no-doubt. [ Calling. . .**Mayuri **]

[ "Tutturu~!" ]

Her sing-songy greeting never got old to him. As warm and natural as sunlight peering through a window in the morning.

"Afternoon, Mayuri."

There she was, on that screen as always, expressive and oozing emotion, flinging her hands about as she spoke.

[ "It _is _afternoon, ya big dummy! What happened? We were supposed to talk at 11:45. So I was here, at 11:45, _on. the. dot._" ] She tapped her index finger aggressively into her opposing palm, pouting all the while.[ "and you were _not here. _Now it's 2:-...2:23!" ]

"Yes. Well." Despite his body aching, his sagging eyelids, he mustered a smile for his old friend. "It has...been an eventful day."

[ "Aw. Okarin..." ] She was the only person who called him that. It wasn't even his name. But then,

Mayushii wasn't hers. A blend of given and surnames. Such was Mayuri's way. [ "You look...not so

_good._" ]

"Ah, wonderful. So I must look as unpleasant as I _feel, _to have you remarking on it."

[ "I-I'm not...really mad, ya know," ] Mayuri mumbled, a guilty look spilling across her.

"I know," he replied. "Still. I'm sorry I wasn't here."

[ "It _super-duper _stresses me out when all of you get all busy and no one says anything back to me. ]

"I know..."

There was a heavy pause.

[ "Guess I can't get too mad, though. Huh? Beats not being able to talk with you at all..." ]

Hououin's stomach gurgled unpleasantly, a sickly feeling overcoming him. He couldn't recall his last meal. He wasn't in the mood to eat. He never seemed to be anymore. He was but a fool trapped in a meatsack of mechanisms, which required fuel to continue operation.

[ "_Wow, _Okarin," ] she giggled at the noises his stomach made. [ "Didja forget to eat again?" ]

"Y-Yes, I...might have," he groaned, his abdomen twisting in pain a bit as he got up.

And so, he begrudgingly went to prepare a quick meal. Retrieving more Rikimaru Instant Ramen from a cabinet beside their microwave, he went about filling it with water.

[ "Awwww, Okariiiiin...~" ] Mayuri had raised her volume so as to make sure he could hear her. [ "I

know you really wanna help me, but you still gotta take care of yourself...Ya know?" ]

"Right," he said through a half-laugh, half-grunt, sticking the cup of ramen into the microwave. He found himself momentarily entranced. Lost at the sight of this foreign device. It wasn't their old model. Of course it wasn't. The original microwave had stopped working years ago. Utterly destroyed by that point. He'd seen to that. And yet, still, here they were. Was this future truly any better, any happier or safer, than the one he have striven so desperately to avoid? He wasn't sure anymore. It was Kurisu's turn to take the helm of this ship. That was the will of the accursed gate.

[ "You making noodles?" ] Mayuri asked, unable to see him from her angle on the docking station at his desk. [ "You better be eating one with _veggies _in it...I _know _you haven't been eating them lately. Kurisu told me..." ]

He chuckled softly to himself, noting the pork-branded flavor. Nary a vegetable in this cup. He plugged in the digits required to cook the thing and returned to his desk.

"_Ha. _What kind of mad scientist worries about not getting enough _vegetables?_"

[ "Okarin..." ] She didn't look amused, all mopey with her arms crossed.

"Rr-...!" Hououin flinched at her reaction, fussing what to say.

[ "Kurisu said she's been telling you _eat, _but you aren't eating. You gotta listen to your _wife. _She knows what's good for you. I oughtta snitch on you..." ]

"Wh-_What? Preposterous_! I've-...I have done no _wrong_, my good lady!"

[ "You're not eating your veggies..." ] She wagged a scolding finger at him. Like he was back to being 20 again and they were in that cramped studio apartment, across the sea. He could remember the way the light played with the wooden floorboards in the late morning...

"I _will _consume my daily vegetable intake," he protested. "With-...With dinner."

[ "You _better, _Mister." ]

The microwave hummed in the background, and Okab-...Hououin drummed his fingers against his knees.

They both stared into each other's eyes for a few moments. Now that silence he had relished earlier felt suboptimal.

[ "Okabe," ] Mayuri sighed, using his real surname. [ "I know you...really wanna help me, but...-" ]

"No 'buts.' Understand? This-...All of this? We're getting _close, _Mayuri. So _damned _close. I can _feel _it in my bones. The doors to Steins;Gate will _finally _open to us, and you _will _return to where you belong. I _swear _to you."

Mayuri's glazed over eyes flickered with an uncertainty that worried him.

[ "Stop it," ] she said, sniffling. [ "Stop talking like that..." ]

"Like _what? _Like a scientist, who's going to bring ab-"

[ "Like _Hououin. _You know I don't like it. And you _don't_ know what's gonna happen. You don't. Do you?" ]

"_Grk...-!_"

[ "I talked with Kurisu. You don't know what'll happen if you open that..._thing._" ]

"It'll allow you to come _back, _Mayuri."

Mayuri sighed shakily, her hands trembling as she wiped tears from her eyes.

Sniffing, she retorted, [ "Come back? Come back to _what, _Okabe? To where?" ]

"To-...! To _us. _To the _world!_"

[ _"How? _Through what? And-...And what _else _is gonna come _with _me?" ]

"..._Mmph._"

[ "Huh? 'Cuz-...'Cuz I just don't got a good feeling about it. Maybe-..." ]

_Don't you say it. Don't fucking dare._

[ "Maybe it's not _worth _all this. Ya know? To-...To bring me back." ]

Okabe folded his hands crossly against his desk, staring at her with a rage like deadening coals.

[ "I-I'm sorry, Okarin, I _know _you really wanna, 'n-...'n I'd _like _that, to-...to come back to everybody, I just...-" ]

"You've done nothing wrong in all this," Hououin insisted. "You are _innocent. _You deserve this more than anyone else in your situation."

[ "You don't..._know _that." ]

"_Oh, _I do."

How could she even _fathom _such a concept? To _stay _there? In that damned place? With the rest of them  
_No. _Unacceptable. And render all of their work for _naught_? Not a chance.

"We're bringing you _back, _Mayuri."

[ "N-No, but-..." ] She squinted her eyes and whimpered out a sob. Hououin looked away. [ "You have Kurisu," ] Mayuri eked out. [ "Y-You made the Lab so..._big, _and-...and you're _successful, _and we can still _talk, _like this, 'n that's good enough for me, _really, _I'm happy enough, I'm _sorry _if I get pushy, it's just a little lonely sometimes, but-...but I just dunno if that's worth it to keep _doing _what you're doing, 'n...-" ]

"Enough," he blurted, pounding his palm against the desk. He'd done so harder than intended, shaking the tablet about. Mayuri had a flash of fear about her. "_Just...-!_" He sucked in air through his nose, calming himself. "The gears of fate are _locked in place, _Mayuri. They have already been set in motion! They _cannot _be undone. Not anymore. Not by me. Better to see their mechanisms function smoothly than to see them shatter. Better to be waiting at the gate for when it opens."

Mayuri was still recovering from her little 'episode.' He wouldn't have it. He refused to watch her cry. Again and again and again. He'd seen it enough times.

[ "It's..._OK, _Okabe. _Really. _I'm-...I'm _used _to this, how-...how things are. Like, I really, really am. I'm still your 'hostage,' right?" ]

"..._Pff._" He shook his head somberly, tapping an indignant finger against his knee. "_No, _Mayuri. And you _shouldn't _be. This mistake is _mine _to bear. I _will _see this done. I _will _see you freed."

[ "_Gugh-..._" ] She was rubbing gunk out of her face, straightening her hair. She took a deep breath [ "That's-...That's my Okarin...Never giving up." ]

"Never."

[ "W-Well, just-...You're not alone. Kurisu, she-...I mean, she's in this with you." ]

Okabe's eyes wandered thoughtfully to the wedding band on his finger.

"Indeed. She is."

[ "Just...listen to her, OK? She's _there. _She can help you. I can't." ]

"Of course you can. And you are. And _have_been. You've helped both of us."

[ "...Uh-huh." ] A tense quiet fell over the room. The microwave beeped. He ignored it for now. [ "W- Well, it's-...There's your food. You should eat it." ]

"In time."

[ "Only got so mucha that. Ya know." ]  
[ **Call Ended** ]

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_Mayuri Shiina ('Mayushi'), Ruka Urishibara, Kurisu ('Christina') Makise, and Rinatro Okabe (aka 'Okarin' aka 'Kyouma Hououin') originate from __**Steins;Gate **__( , Nitroplus)_  
_Moira O'Deorain__ originates from __**Overwatch**__ (Blizzard)  
Michael originates from __**Oxenfree**__ (Night School Studio)_  
_Alphys and 'The Man Who Speaks in Hands' originate from __**Undertale**__ (toby fox)_


	7. Episode 7

**_(As always, this story is intended to be read in PDF, but FF doesn't let me link properly. You can find this story on Archive of Our Own)._**

**_Arcadian Rhythms  
Episode 7_**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

[ "I see. Well, the numbers you're giving me are doable, Zane." ]

Dana felt that lump in her throat solidify, that familiar lurch in her stomach make its way around.  
Dangling over another cliff, one step forward, and she'd jump off, leaving things behind and landing in a whole new place.

But something was holding her back this time. Well, something and some_one, _maybe.  
For once, she found herself being cautious, considerate, _worrying _about taking such a drastic leap.  
Dana Zane had hit the Hard Reset button on her life multiple times now, without regret or hesitation.  
That wasn't going to happen this time. For a change, she had reasons _not _to let it happen.

Or? Well, maybe she was just getting fucking old...?

She drummed her fingers on her desk as she considered Amari's proposal. 'Pharah' was not her mother's daughter in some ways – yet very much so in others. But this was an unexpected turn to take for her. This intrigued Dana, of course, but...-

"What's the catch?" Dana wondered.

[ "I'm sorry?" ]

Dana smirked. Oh, Fareeha.

"_Heh. _C'mon, Pharah. Just gimme it straight."

[ "I...mean, it's a risky endeavor. Dangerous work. I can't...think of a 'catch,' other than how particular I am about who I am considering for the team." ]

Leaning back in her chair and kicking her shoes up on her desk, Dana rubbed at her chin.

"'Danger' I can deal with. But 'risky?' What do you mean?"

[ "There's a possibility it may have to be carried out in the private sector, which...would introduce complications on top of complications. I have yet to approach Morrison with my proposal. I'm biding my time. There's no telling exactly how he will respond." ]

"Let alone your _mother._"

A disgruntled but gentle sigh came from Fareeha.

[ "Yes. Let alone my _mother_..." ]

"Time ain't something I have much of left, we're a sinking ship over here."

[ "Right. I understand. I could...perhaps consult Angela, maybe we could arrange a loan for you?" ]

Yeesh. Loans? Dana didn't like the sound of _that._ She hated being tethered to the past. She'd rather make a go of things than worry about a loan.

"_Ehh, _I dunno," Dana put out warily. "Maybe don't worry about that."  
[ "Hm. Well it's a standing offer, but what will it take t-" ]  
"Look-look, look." Dana took in a sharp breath, running her hand through her hair. In the micro-moment where she held that breath in, memories of her past lives flickered, each one a drop of pain and joy, gathering together to wet the spaces between her eyeballs and the lids containing them.

Dana exhaled, slowly. She wiped her eyelids dry with her thumb. Opening her eyes, her gaze settled on her laptop, still open, portraying a photo of Fore – Jill's cat. Blue eyes, black fur, little lazy goof. Truth be told, though, she couldn't decide why she'd made the photo her background recently. Was it for the adorable, dumb cat, or the lovely fingers holding him? Jill's fingernails in that photo were polished a neon purple, reflecting the city's night life. The way those fingers clutched at that black furball was both desperate and affectionate.

[ "Zane?" ]

"_Agh. _Sorry. Needed a sec to think."

[ "And? What's troubling you?" ]

Wiggling her left foot by the heel against her right foot – still kicked back on her desk – Dana asked the question that had been pounding at her chest since the conversation had started.

"Pharah, I just-...I don't get it. Why do you want _me _to join this little rag-tag pet project? Me, specifically, I mean."

[ "Are you joking?" ]

"Do I _sound _like I'm joking?"

[ "Ah. No. Erh-...It's because when you were with us, you _excelled_." ]  
"In certain, specific areas. For the limited time I was there."  
[ "But you are so bold. You are willing to try things no one else even _thinks_ to." ]  
"Because I get cold feet where it's comfortable, or I get bored."  
[ "Either way, it leads you to make courageous decisions." ]  
"Fucking _stupid _decisions. Think you mean."  
[ "_Ah. _I see. You're worried I'm setting myself up for disappointment?" ]  
"_I_-...No, I mean, I'd kick-_ass _at job, under the right leadership, I just...-"  
[ "Even if it was only to help get Helix running, your work would make a huge difference." ]  
"You _really _wanna trust me with that kind of responsibility?"  
[ "My mother trusted you. She still does. _Lexi _trusted you." ]

_Fucking __**knew **__you were gonna bring her into this..._

"_Yea, _n' look where _that _got her. And you want me to-?"  
[ "Do _not _deflect me with her death, Zane. I _know _you are better than that. You can try to hold Lexi as some clichéd excuse for leaving the force, but we both know there's more to it than that." ]

"_Fff. _Maybe there _isn't, _all right? I'm a simple woman, Amari. Got simple needs..."

_-knock, knock, knock!-_

Ah, Jill, standing at the doorway.

Dana dragged her shoes off her desk, knocking some paperwork over in the process. Sighing with her phone to her ear, she gestured Jill to enter.

Fareeha replied, [ "My needs are simple, too. I require trusted, reliable individuals to build the groundwork for Helix." ]

"_Agh-_ Look, I-..." Dana's eyes self-consciously darted to Jill's curious, keen expression. Dana held up a casual finger to her friend – employee – and wrapped things up. "I'm flattered, _really. _Sounds like you've got this whole thing figured out, I don't even know why you'd need _me. _'Reliable individuals?' I mean-..._Me? _Come on. Now, look, I-...Someone needs me, here."

Dana went to give Jill a smirk, but the woman was hovering awkwardly, hands primly tied behind her back, staring at the mess Dana had just made.

[ "Please consider my offer, Zane. It sounds like it could benefit both of us a great deal." ]

"I-..._Mmph. _It _could, _maybe," admitted Dana, watching Jill approach round the desk. Made Dana confused. "I'll-...Yea, OK, I'll _consider _it. Get back to me when it's _official _and I'll...-" Dana scratched an itch behind her ear, momentarily dazed by the view of Jill bending over to pick up the papers Dana had spilled. Was a front view, but, uh, didn't make it any less distracting somehow... "_Uh, _I'll...give you a final answer then. When everything's set in stone. How's that?"

[ "That, I can work with. Sorry to bother you while you're on shift. I appreciate your time." ]

"Yep. It's, uh, good hearing from you."

Jill took the sheets she'd gathered, grouping them up with the rest of the mess on Dana's desk, and shoved it all together, straightening the stuff into an even stack. _-Tak, tak-_

[ "You, too. Take care, Zane. You'll hear from me soon." ]

"Bye."

Almost like being able to breathe after an airlock opened up, Dana ended the call, put her phone face down on her desk, and rubbed her hands across her sleep-deprived face.

_Shit shit shit she's gonna ask me who that was._

Dusting fried chicken crumbs off the desk's edge and into the trash bin, Jill asked, "So, _that _sounded fun. Who was that?"

"_Agh, _just...-" Dana swallowed, straightening her shirt's collar a bit. "Old friend, haven't heard from 'em in a while."

Jill, noting how full the bin was, slowly popped the bag up by the handles, careful not to spill.

She prodded, "Some kind of offer, huh? Like, for a new job, or...-?"

They were both avoiding eye contact. Dana couldn't tell if she _preferred _that or if it annoyed her.

"Eh, _something _like that," Dana mumbled, planting her elbows on her desk. She watched Jill's delicate fingers tie the garbage's bag's handles into a knot. Her nail polish was black today, but weathered and chipped, a few days old. "Could just be some hot air, though," Dana concluded, struggling to not stare. _Why _was she having so much _trouble _with that lately? It was usually not such a problem...

"Ah. Yea, I know how _that _is," Jill lamented, swerving around to Dana's side of the desk again. She tore open the bottom drawer, where the spare garbage bags for the can were. "Had an interview last night, and I could _tell _it was...not at all a for-sure thing, you know?"

"Mm..." Dana leaned back in her seat, admiring the way Jill's twin-tails draped down, one of them hanging over the corner of her desk briefly when Jill bent over to tear a fresh bag from its roll. Locks of purple gently spreading across her desk like paint strokes. Dana was no artiste, but she wondered what such a painting would look like...

Rising up from the drawer, Jill licked her thumb-tip, then used it to find the plastic bag's opening. Her eyes caught something and her expression widened.

"Oh, _hey. _Awww..." The more formal tone in Jill's voice had melted. Smiling a little, Jill nodded her chin up toward Dana's desk. "Is that Fore?"

Ah, _fuck. _Dana's computer background.

Dana had a second while Jill flicked the bag open, but it wasn't enough time for her stupid brain to mix together a good explanation.

"_What? _Oh. _Oh, _yea, I, uh...-"  
"You get that photo from my HitBox?" Jill theorized.

_what, you mean your social media which I totally did not go swooping through recently catching up on the past two weeks of your life and not liking or commenting on anything because I'm your boss and that's fucking inappropriate so would be consider cyberstalking maybe I don't fuck fuck she's staring SAY SOMETHING you dumbass-_

"Ah,_ yea_. It came up on my feed the other day, and...-"

Jill nodded at Dana's reply, finding it sufficient (_thank hylia!_). Jill then leaned over again to place the bag neatly into the bin – damnit, why couldn't Dana just _not stare _today? She was totally losing her touch, _where _was that old Red Comet swagger at? _Cool, confident, collected,_ _**come on, Zane.**_

"Well, that's cute," said Jill. "It's just, I thought you didn't like cats."

"Ah, _what? _Nah, cats're-..." Dana trailed off, swiping a hand at the air to dissuade the notion. "I mean, more of a dog person, myself, sure, but...cats are still good. Ya know?"

"Heh." Jill flashed a bemused grin briefly. "Well, I _own _one, so...yea, I _do_ know."

Scooping up the full trash bag, Jill finally gave Dana her gaze.

Dana clarified, "I mean, _your _cat, he's, uh-...I like _him _OK, I think. More than most cats."

And that damn confusing spark they'd kept sharing lately – the very thing Dana knew in her gut was the exact reason they were avoiding eye contact this whole time – it sent a pleasant shiver down Dana's back, and she found herself yawning through her nostrils to recover.

Managing to pry her eyes away, Jill shrugged one shoulder up, citing, "Ah. Heh. Yea, I, erh, I like him more than most cats, too."

"That why you talk to him so much?" Dana teased in a dumb, short-sighted, desperate bid to avoid silence.

But something about that statement had been...bad.

"Mm..." Jill's whole expression, whatever weird warmth had bubbled up, it washed away in an instant.

Shit, was that whole...Jill-talking-to-her-cat thing like, not a thing to pick on? Or...-?  
Dana found it kind of cute, actually, but, she _could _see others, like, maybe thinking Jill was a little crazy. Jill had gotten pretty defensive and embarrassed the last time Dana had pointed out that she did it – almost like from her point of view, she really _was _talking with someone else...

Jill was heading out the door with a certain weird gloom to her every step.

"_Oh, _uh, hold up," Dana called out.

Jill's heels clacked to a halt, and she looked over her shoulder.

Dana asked, "You came to see me about something?" Flapping her fingertips against one another, she added, "I mean, like-...I assume. That you did."

"Rrrrrrr_ight_," Jill spat, looking embarrassed. Heh, well, Dana would take it, woman looked din-damn cute when she was flustered. "_Yea, _sorry, I, um-..." Jill wobbled, rotating around in the door way, the garbage bag bumping into the door. "We're, eh, running low on Adelhyde. Limes, too. And...-" Jill paused, her eyes rolling up and around as she frowned slightly. "Gah, forgot what else, sorry."

"It's fine," Dana assured. "I'll swing by Ham Panther in a bit, resupply on some things. You'd better get back to it for now. Let me know if anything else comes up, though."

"Will do, Chief."

Feeling like the idiot she usually did after these increasingly awkward encounters with the Boss, Jill trudged her way out toward the back door. The cold chill of the winter air was a sobering reminder of all of the many reasons why Jill knew she had to _stop _daydreaming about all of this: Vallhalla, Dana, _all _of it, it was going to _end _soon. Or maybe that was why she was clinging to it all so hopelessly, like a drunk tipping the glass back unreasonably high to _strain _themselves at those last few drops of drink, only to see them mostly just sticking to the bottom or the sides of the glass.

What about the weird way Dana had been acting, then? Jill had been avoiding eye contact – there had been a strange eagerness, a _nervousness, _about Dana all day that was alarming and scary and confusing for all the right reasons. Even Gil had said something about it, so she _knew _she wasn't just imagining it, but unlike Gil, Jill had theories as to why – very exciting, inappropriate, _likely inaccurate _theories.

Flinging the small garbage bag high up in the air toward the dumpster, Jill savored watching its gravity shift and swing back downward as it collided with the other trash, landing from such a high place down to where it belonged.

Lamenting the self-deprecating metaphors that presented, Jill went to reach for a cigarette, only to realize her coat, and thus her cigarettes, were still inside. Because she was _not _on break. And _wow _was it cold out. And holy _hell _was she tired.

Shuffling her way back inside, Jill went to the restroom to wash her hands, moisturize, and recompose herself.

Except she found that she couldn't.

_**-soon, Jill. so very soon.-**_

"...What?"

_**-you'll lose this place. all of it.-**_

"Yea. I'm _aware_..."

_**-you'll lose HER.-**_

"..." Jill continued washing her hands silently.

_**-you'll be homeless in a couple months-**_

_**-less, even.-**_

"What happened to our holiday truce?"

_**-this isn't an attack, I'm trying to make sure you don't lose perspective-**_

_**-you need to get your shit in order-**_

_**-there's bigger things going on here than your stupid crush-**_

"I _know _that. OK? And it's not a _crush._"

_**-you keep telling yourself that, make it hurt less when it CRUSHES you-**_

"Fuck you," Jill grumbled under her breath. "Let me just focus on my _job. _While I still can."

Jill dried her hands off with a knot in her stomach.

_**-you're right, I'm sorry. I'm scared, OK?-**_

"You think I'm _not_?"

_**-ok ok I get it, i'll back off for the rest of the night...-**_

"_Augh_," Jill groaned, rolling her eyes. "I didn't _mean _that you...-"

But she was gone. In as much as she ever was. Jill could tell. So she let it be.

"It's time to mix drinks and change lives..."

Heading back out to the bar, all of the noise going on was cutting divots into the music she'd selected from the jukebox, so even her usual go-to stress mitigation wasn't going to work. Gil gave her a quick wave, said something she couldn't hear across the way, and gestured toward two new customers who had come in, sitting at the edge of the counter closest to the back-end rooms.

The news was playing on the television hung up nearby. Some older man in a suit giving a press conference, only to...-? Freak out? Fall over?

What the fuck? He looked like he'd had a heart attack or something, live on TV. The news was reporting on it.

[ "-as well as the founder of the popular Big Bang Burger food chain. The news comes as a shock to many, with the cause of death being as of yet unknown, but authorities are already citing suspicion of the involvement of the infamous terrorist group The Phantom Thieves of Hearts, given the recent evidence pointing toward-" ]

The channel was suddenly changed to some kind of talk show, and the volume was lowered.

Jill noted Gil setting the remote down on the counter with a tired sigh, mumbling, "People're coming here lately to _forget _about all of the shit going on out there..."

Jill nodded sullenly in agreement, and noted that none of the customers seemed to object at the change of programming.

"Anyway," Gil bobbed his head toward the counter. "You're back, right? Mind grabbin' those two for me?"

"You got it," Jill agreed, attending to the customers in question.

A lumbering behemoth of a man with a bit of trimmed beard was hulking on the counter's edge. He was dressed all in white, some kind of business attire, like he'd just come from work. Looked...'sciencey.' He had smallish, dark brown eyes that carried a glint to them. His flat, wide nose resided amidst a large jawline adorned with a dark brown chin-strip beard that spiked out roughly at the bottom. His hair had a smidge slicked up and forward, while the majority of it was a short-furred mess. His form was hulking, and his meaty arms and hands maneuvering around average-sized items for average-sized people was oddly adorable, in a way – especially since he managed to pull it off with shocking grace.

"Ah, hello," he greeted Jill, his voice deep and rugged despite everything about his demeanor suggesting he was anything _but _rugged.

To his side sat a familiar face. A brunette woman with a pointed nose, a bit of freckles beneath her eyes, and long limbs. Her hair was gelled and spiked in a sweeping motion to one side, and she had double earrings on each lobe, with a strange medallion draped over her neck. Jill couldn't place it right away, but she _felt _like she'd met this person before, if only in passing.

When the foreign accent came out from her lips, then Jill was _certain _she knew this person from somewhere.

"Oi, evenin' to ya."

"Do we, _urh, _place our orders with _you_, Ma'am?" checked the bulky one with a careful, considerate pace.

"Y-Yea, _mm_," Jill replied with a prim nod, gathering her mixing materials and making sure they were still clean, like she'd left them. "Sorry for the wait. Welcome to Valhalla, what can I get you tonight?"

"Depends. Whatcha got on tap?" asked the woman with the peppy demeanor.

"Ah, well, we've got some...Red Cyclone, some Pyramid Head...We _had _some Cinderbrick Stout, but I think we ran out an hour ago."

The woman flicked up a wrist and decided, "Gimme some of the Cyclone, then."

"And, um," the man adjusted his thin, rectangular glasses. "Do you have Nuka Cola here?"

"We do." Jill nodded plainly, going to get a beer glass for the lady.

"In that case, could you give me one of those, with an appropriate serving of rum?"

Jill confirmed with a nod.

"Sure thing, Sir."

_So, a Rum-'N-Nuke for the gentle giant over here, and a pint of Red Cyclone for the pixie girl. Man, where do I __**know **__her from? I definitely have seen her before..._

"Oh, erh...-" Jill paused, scrutinizing the woman as she poured the beer from the tap. That face, that accent...familiar, for sure. She'd been in here a couple times, right? "I _know _you, don't I?"

The woman's eyes lit up with some confusion, but it quickly settled and she shrugged with a light nod.

"_Ah, _prolly, yea." She sniffed, rubbing her nose with her thumb a little.

Officer Nora. Yea. That was the connection. She remembered now.

_"Ohhh, _right," said Jill, watching the beer fill the glass. "You're Officer Nora's girlfriend, aren't you?"

"_Heh, _yep, sure am! Brilliant gal, that Aloy, ain't she?"

Jill nodded pleasantly in agreement, watching the foam rise to the top of the glass.

"Yea, she comes in all the time these days," Jill said, attempting to build a little rapport. "We've had some good chats. It just, uh, it threw me off, I guess – I've only ever seen you with her so far, but I've seen _her_ with a number of other folks, kind of...runs together, and...-"

"Oh, yea?"

Based on the way the brunette woman's expression soured for a moment, Jill realized that maybe she should not have said that.

_Fuck._

"_Ah, _yep, comes in here a lot with, like...work buddies, and stuff."  
_Not technically a lie!_"...I see," mumbled the woman. "Only I work _with _her, I mean...we're partners in the force, so...-"

_Double fuck._

"Right! _Oh! _Y-yea, I'd...forgotten about that, I guess she...-"  
"-...maybe tries to ignore that? That I'm supposed to be her _partner_?"  
"Wh-? No, no, she's just...very, like, 'all-business' when she comes here, always...talking about work...things...with people, and...-"  
"Bein' her _partner_, and all – supposed to mean we're equals, right? – you'd think I'd be a part of that. Her 'work things.'" The woman rapped her knuckle twice against the counter, a furrowed look of irritation about her.

_Yikes. Really hit some kind of sore spot, there, didn't I?_

The woman exchanged that irate glance with her companion, who smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

The big guy at her side theorized, "I'm sure she's just trying to spare you the humdrum."

"Ah...-" Jill eked, complete with a shrug and a plastic, playing-dumb smile as she gathered a coaster and set it down in the front of the woman.

"_Mmph._" The woman's peppy air had been deflated.

Jill gave up. She was just digging herself deeper. _Shit._

"I'm, uh, guessing you're not here for shop talk, then, huh?" Jill posed. She carefully set down the pint of Red Cyclone in front of the woman, who just stared at it with a newfound gloominess.

"I certainly _hope _not," said the deep-voiced man, giving his glasses a tweak as he shuffled in his seat – a seat he was arguably too big for. "Officer Oxton and I are old friends." He reached out his goliath hand and gave Oxton a hearty pat on the back.

"Eh, yea," Oxton mumbled, blinking as if waking from a stupor. She took a sip of her drink, her stature more slumped than it had been.

"Oxton, yea, name rings a bell," Jill muttered, sort of out of habit. She almost went to say _'Aloy's talked about you a lot,' _but opted against it.

"Just call me Lena," the Officer insisted with a dismissive waggle of one hand as she used the other to down some big gulps of her draft.

"What about you, Sir?" Jill prodded.

"Me? Oh, I'm...just an engineer."

"Ah, I-I meant...your name, actually."

"Oh, I'm _Winston, _ha-ha."

Jill chuckled softly to herself at the man.

"Name's Jill," she asserted her own name into things with a slight nod of her head. "So, Winston, how strong would like your drink?" she checked, hoping to re-orient the interaction.

"Mm? Oh, well, whatever is...adequate." His response was cute. Just seeing someone this _big _and muscular with such a deep voice, sounding and acting so...bumbling yet courteous – there was an endearing quality to it.

"Heh." Jill nodded and got to work.

_One 'adequate' Rum-'n-Nuke, coming right up._

As Lena seemed to lose herself in her drink a little, Jill decided to keep conversation up.

Dropping three ice cubes into a small glass, she prodded, "So, um, Winston, you said you're an engineer?"

"That's right. Zaibatsu Corporation – Aperture Science Division."

"Big guy 'ere's building the _future,_" Lena talked him up between sips with a heart slap to his back, to which he smiled bashfully and shrugged.

"Really?" said Jill, pouring rum into the glass. "Zaibatsu, huh? You know Alma Armas?"

The man scratched his meaty fingers against his sturdy chin, stroking the pointed edge of his bear.

"Mm, I tend to work in isolation a lot these days, but...-" His head bobbed a little, open-endedly. "I _do _recall the name. She works our software end, I believe."

"That's right," Jill confirmed, cracking open a rocket-shaped bottle of Nuka Cola and carefully pouring it. "She's, um, she's actually one of my best friends. Comes here _all _the time."

"Is _that _so?" Winston balked, surprised. "You'll have to send her my regards. I'm so occupied lately, I've lost track of my social manners."

"'_Eyyy, _now, that's what you're _here _for right now, though, isn't it?" Lena said, assuaging his self-forlorn concerns.

Jill mumbled a quick, "Here ya go," cautiously sliding the drink over to the engineer.

"Heh. I guess you're right," Winston replied to Lena, handing over his card to be charged.

"Separate or together?" Jill double checked.

"Sep-" Lena began, but-  
"Together," Winston insisted, beckoning her back with his massive hand.

"Ah. Well, er, thanks," Lena mumbled, knowing there was no use arguing with him. Big Guy was always there for her, for quite some time now. _Literally _did not know where she'd be if he hadn't helped her out. A complete stranger, going out of his way, spending so much time and energy, just to help her out, back in the day. Miffed as she might've been over job stuff, wasn't right to go taking that out on her best friend. Then again, wasn't right to be keeping her best friend and her girlfriend in two separate parts of her life, huh?

But Lena wasn't ready to deal with that yet, was like oil and water, it was.

"Hey," said the other bartender, swooping in from the left and tapping their purple-haired bartender on the shoulder, "When you're done here, could you go get those folks over there?" He gestured back somewhere off on the floor behind Lena and Winston.

"Sure thing," said their lady bartender.

"Thanks," said the stubble-faced employee, heading back to his side.

Lena took another gulp of her beer, trying to drown her worries in it, and feeling guilty for that. She was supposed to be here to see Winston. First time in _weeks. _Months, maybe? Guy deserved better than that, didn't he?

"Did you need anything else for right now?" they were asked politely by Jill.

Winston exchanged looks with Lena, who shook her head gently, fingers tapping against her half-empty pint glass.

"I think we should fine, Ma'am. Thank you."

"I'll be back in a bit," said Jill, whisking herself off.

The Big Guy finally took a sip of his drink and growled out a pleased sigh.

"Mm. It's been a while since I've partaken in a proper spirit."

"Heh. Yea," acknowledged Lena, "'n I bet that stuff's better than what they'll have at that Longest Night party you've gotta go to."

"Haha, _yea, _I'm sure. They spare no expense when it comes to my research, but they do _not _seem interested in investing in our company parties. You know, I have _never _seen anyone receive cake on their birthday there. Yet they e-mail you on your birthday _telling _you to expect cake. A cake that never comes."

"Sounds fishy to me."

"Mm. Well, I suppose we'll see how Longest Night goes. What about you? What'll the department be doing this year?"

"Same as always, I bet," Lena lamented. "Shove us all into The Downside, get hammered...-" She shrugged up a shoulder. ""S all right, but honestly, that weird feeling never goes away."

"Oh?"

Winston waited through the pause where they both took swigs of their drinks.

Lena finally explained, "I don't really _belong _here, Winston. _You _know that."

Winston tried to reassure her with, "You belong wherever you _want _to be."

"_Pfffsss, _well. Yea. Only I haven't figured _that _bit out..."

"Captain Amari seems to think you're doing fine, last I've heard."

"Yea. Great. '_Fine._' Sure she _does _think that, 's why she's been _raking _me over the coals all year. Never'll be anything _more _than that – '_fine'_. Just 'fine.' Just holdin' folks back, keepin' 'em down..."

"I don't think anyone feels that way, Lena."

"Wouldn't be able to keep my own _trousers _on right, not for everybody else. _Augh-_! Actually, no, _really,_" Lena fussed out her hands as she recalled, "Came home, right? Put my bloody trousers on backward! Didn't even realize 'til Aloy teased me for it."

"You _do _tend to rush into things before looking..."

"_Right, _don't _I _know that! 'S what I'm _saying, _Winston."

"Sure, but with that comes an adaptability."

Shrugging off Winstons' attempt at compliment, Lena chugged at her drink a few gulps in, huffed out some impatience, and burped slightly. It came out sounding more like a hiccup. See? Couldn't even belt one out proper.

Winston followed through, "You've been adjusting very well to everything, all things considered."

"Not _really_," she grimly informed him. "Just good at lookin' like I am, suppose..."

"I see." Winston lowered his voice a bit to ask, "Is your condition still giving you any difficulties?"  
It _had _been quite some time since Winston had conducted an examination...

"Wh-? _Nahhh, _that's all fine." Lena sat still for a second, both palms on the counter. "Got this all under control, mate, really," she insisted before diving back into her drink. "Thanks to _you _'n all, of course. Credit where due."

Hesitating, but opting to not push it, Winston nodded and took a small sup of his rum and cola. Aw, chap was _worried_ about her still.

"_Really, _Winston, I'm _fine,_" Lena assured with a slight shake of her head. "Everythin' up my arse these days has _nothing _to do with Disassociation. 'S everything _else._"

"Well, that's good, I'm glad to hear you're feeling better on that front. At least, you know, with 'everything else,' that's..._much _easier to work on."

"Right? You'd _think_," Lena bitterly grumbled.  
_Honestly, though, I'm not so sure._

"On that note, it's getting to be that time of year again. I know we missed last year, but I wanted to invite you over to my place for Longest Night. If, uh...that was what you wanted."

"_Ah_," Lena eked out squeamishly, and Winston already heard the 'no' coming. "That's, I mean, _really, _that's kind of you, Bud, I _want _to, I do, it's that-..." She drummed her fingers on the counter, then tapped her index down twice. Her hands wouldn't stay still. "Well, so, see, the thing of it is-...I mean, Aloy n' me, we got_-...Erh...-_"  
"You still don't want her to meet me."  
"..._Eghhh..._" Lena clawed at her scalp squeamishly.  
"But _why?_"

"'S complicated, Big Guy. Tryin' to keep my old life and my new life separate, is all."

"Leave the past behind you?"

"_Right, _right, yea. _Exactly._" Lena flashed her index, waggling it casually.

"So, um-...So, _me, _then. Leave me behind, too."

"Whuh-?" Lena's aloft finger froze, transformed into an open palm, and waggled in the negative. "_Nooo, _no-no. Winston, _no. _That's _not _what I meant."

"Is that why you've been avoiding my calls for the past couple months?"

"I said '_no_.' Seriously."

"Well, it stands to reason there's _some _explanation. It's not like you to leave me hanging for so long."

"R-Right, no, it's...kind of rubbish, I'm sorry. Been a bad mate this year, know I have, 's 'cause-...Ah, there's a _lot _going on lately."

Lena let loose an unsteady breath. Elbows on the counter, face planted against her palms, she seemed to struggle with herself for a second before pouncing out of it and having more to drink.

"You can talk about whatever's going on, you know," Winston offered.

A few seconds of consideration, and Aloy began, "Just, like, this _entire _year? 'S like everything I touch goes to pot, no matter what I try. The Captain's feeling buggered with how badly we're all doing, seems to _enjoy _taking it out on _me, _can't even _blame _her, really. I mean, fuck's sake, Winston, even my own bloody _girlfriend _doesn't trust me to not _bullocks _everything up."

"With Captain Amari, I'm sure she's just very stressed. I've seen the numbers myself, the public opinion – I don't envy the position your department's in. There's simply too much for you all to stay on top of. Still, I _really _don't think Aloy would be keeping you out of the loop because she doesn't trust you."

"Yea? Well." Lena popped up her brows, shook her head, and shrugged. "Why _else_, then?"

Winston had a dainty sip of his beverage and shrugged.

"I'm not _her, _so-...Well, ha, I haven't even _met _her, but-...Typically, things like this happen because someone wants to protect someone else."

"Don't _need _no one's..._sodding protection,_" Lena grumbled with some barred-up frustration. "Supposed to be an _officer of the law, _here, didn't even _wanna be, _but here I am, right? Trying to do the work. Still being treated like a _child. _Know why _that _is? 'Cause _I am one._ 'N no matter _what _I fucking-..._argh-!_"

Lena suddenly flinched, clutched at her forehead, her expression drenched in a brief flash of pain. Winston was instantaneously a lot more worried about her than he had been prior to this meeting.

Opening her eyes, she suddenly scanned their environs.

Chugging the last of her beer down, she slammed her glass grumpily onto the counter and wiped her lips with her sleeve.

"'M off to the loo," she groaned, shambling herself to the restroom.

Hm. Winston had his theory about this off moment. When he saw who entered through the front door of the establishment, his observations culminated in confirmation of said theory. Their eyes met immediately, and to Winston's dismay, she approached him straight away.

Sitting herself down in Lena's seat, the woman swept her long, purple-streaked hair behind her shoulder and sighed, tapping her sharp fingernails against the table.

"Hola," she greeted playfully, wriggling her fingers at Winston.

"Miss Calomar," Winston greeted rigidly.

Scratching her nail against Lena's empty beer glass, Olivia lamented, "Aw, looks like I _just _missed the life of the party..."

"So it seems," Winston mumbled, swallowing down more of his rum and cola.

"You know," Calomar began in her facetious manner, wiggling a finger with a slight shake of her head. "if I didn't _know _any better, I would say she's _avoiding _me..._Tch._ I mean, it's kind of _crazy, _right? Almost like she _sees _me coming, every time...Mira wey, _how _am I supposed to make things right with her at this rate?"

"Somehow I _don't _think that's your intention."

"Heh. Either way, she's not what I came for here tonight. Just thought I might knock two birds out with one stone. But, as _usual, _that little birdie knows how to dodge her rocks..."

Olivia pushed herself up from the table, nodded to herself, stretched her arms, and yawned.

"Is there anything I can _do _for you, Calomar?" posed the big-bodied scientist as he drank his teeny-tiny drink.

"Oh, don't _worry, _'Big Guy,'" Olivia taunted, mocking Lena's manner of speech as she gave the good doctor a wink and a toothy grin. "You already are doing _plenty _for me, and I for you – whether you know it or not. We've gotten pretty good at scratching each other's backs without even realizing it, unh?...Anyway. Buenas noches, Winston."

Spinning round and leaving the hulk-with-brains to his own devices, Olivia searched the bar for the _actual _target – er, wait, no, this was legit social, wasn't it? _Well, _was _anything _100% pure of motives, really? No. But this specific meeting, it was founded in genuine social interest for a change.

And of course, her friend was a _no show. _What the hell? Come on.

Retrieving a hair tie from one of her jacket's many pockets, Olivia bunched her carefully conditioned locks into a ponytail and approached the main counter, where Good Boy Gil was chatting up a trio of chicks.

"Yo, _John_," she goaded. His expression flattened when he met her gaze, rinsing out dishes.

"_Hiiii, _Liv," he dryly greeted. "Got my hands tied with a few people already waiting on me, but Jill's-"  
"You seen Ell around?"

"Huh?"

"You know, Ellie? Angry butch? Probably in flannel?" Liv pinched her hands near her chest, simulating grabbing a shirt collar.

"_Oh, _her. Not tonight, no."

"_Augh, _Din-damnit," Liv huffed, her head lurching back with disappointment. She watched Gil take off, leaving her to her grumblings. "Farore's sake, Ell, why do you always gotta...-?" Liv trailed off, gripping at her temple with irritation as her migraine from before crept back around.

Why was Ellie _always _late these days? Liv had a _schedule _to keep.

Well, as good a time as any to check up on things real quick.

Hiding in a back corner of the bar where things were a little quieter, Olivia replied to some boring work-related crap, but halfway through a [ I look forward to ], she received a call from an unknown number. Turning on her bluetooth earpiece, she took the call.

"Hey," she blurted.

[ "_Heyyy._" ]

Wow, _what?_

"_Gabe?_ Is that _you_?"

[ "...Sombra." ]

"You still don't mind if I call you 'Gabe,' right?"

[ "Rrrhghgh..." ] Ha.

"Oh, oh, sorry, **'Reaper.'**_ Pfff._ Anyway, _wow, _what the hell are _you _calling me for? I thought they still had you on ice, heh."

[ "Moira's needed my...assistance." ]

"_Really_. Well, good for _you, _Sir."

[ "Ughhhh..." ]

"Getting the old band back together?"

[ "Doubtful." ]

"Must make you feel _so alive _to be out and about again."

[ "Sombra." ]

"OK, OK, but seriously – I'm waiting on a date, here. What's up?"

[ "Moira needs you to look into something when you have time." ]

"Why didn't she just ask me when I was at work?"

[ "Just came up." ]

"Uhhhh_kay, _so why not have _you _look into it?"

[ "Something I don't have the...means to do myself." ]

"_Ahhh, _so she just wants me to be her damn lackey for the day. Again."

[ "Look, I'm just the messenger. I have work to do." ]

"Oh, I'm _sure _you do, Gabey. Such a hard little worker...If they have you back in commission, you need me to give you an update on your old buddy Jack? Eh? You-"  
[ "Let's just get the job done." ]

"Heh. You're just as fun as I remember, Gabe."

[ "...mmmfff..." ]

And there was Ellie. Not as late as usual, at least...

"OK. So. Text me the details and I'll take a look."

[ "Right." ]

"_Byeee _Gaaaaabe~"

[ Call Ended ] - Heh, he hung up on her.

_¡Jajaja! Pinche Gabriel, eres un idiota... _

Smiling with amusement to herself, Olivia watched Ellie quickly locate her and head on over.

"Late _again, _Ellie..." Olivia shot her friend a disappointed look.

"I know, _sorry, _I know..." Ellie huffed with self-deprecation as she fumbled into her seat, peeling off an ugly as hell olive jacket. Thing was dirty, wrinkled, looked cheap, and was just drab. It was like Ellie _wanted _to be glossed over by the human population. Like, don't get her wrong, Olivia _knew _how that went, but that didn't mean you had to go about it so...tastelessly...

"What the hell do _you _have going on that's keeping you so busy?" Liv asked bluntly.

Struggling a little to get her jacket off of her wrists, Ellie grunted, "My..._fucking _side job, it-..._Eugh._" Got the damn thing off, shoved it on top of her chair and slammed herself into her seat.

"Right. Let's...not talk about work, then," Liv decided delicately, off-put by Ellie's irate body language.

"Sounds good to _me,_" Ellie quietly groaned, her elbows going right on the table as she settled her forehead against her trembling wrists.

"Something up?" Liv wondered. There was a mix of personal and formal interest. Ellie was as much of a friend as Liv had these days, but she was also a valuable asset. Olivia couldn't have wrangled in those two subjects on her own, after all, and while Valkyrie was proving to be as frustrating as expected, apparently Lunar was going much more smoothly, and both were still precious commodities. Hell, Liv was certain she wouldn't have been able to, er, 'acquire' Valkyrie at all without Ellie's help. Hired help, of course, but help all the same.

She did wonder if Ellie could prove to be a more valuable resource as a test subject, given her unique...situation, but Olivia also recognized that such a course of action could leave Ellie in very much the opposite position than either of them desired – trapped, isolated. It was difficult enough swallowing her guilt over the two girls they'd kidnapped, but they were nobodies, and that sacrifice was serving a greater good. That same guilt would be multiplied if Liv had to see that happen to someone she actually _knew, _someone that some part of her actually _cared _about.

After these moments of rumination, Olivia realized that Ellie had simply shrugged off her concerned question and crossed her arms, leaning back into her chair as she eyed the front counter.

"Well?" Liv prodded, not willing to let the question go. "Something going on with you and your 'dad,' or what?"

She was looking away, but the manner in which Ellie's brows flinched at the remark gave Olivia all she needed to know: '_yes._'

After a moment of thoughtful hesitation, Olivia leaned against her palm, elbow to the table, and quietly offered, "You need me to do something about it?"

"_Wh-? _No," Ellie quickly spat, her attention finally redirecting back to Liv. "Don't-..._Just_-...!" She was shaking her head slightly, her mind obviously somewhere else. "Leave that shit to _me, _all right? That's _my _problem, no one else's."

Olivia shrugged one shoulder, lifted her brows, and murmured, "If you _say _so. So long as it _stays _no one else's problem, then OK."

"Whatever, don't...-" Ellie was flagging Gil down with an annoyed look. "-..._worry _about it, it's _fine._"

"All right, all right..." Liv shrugged the matter off in gesture but not in thought.

This _'Joel' _guy was a liability, so far as Olivia was concerned. Brute force had it uses, though, couldn't deny that. After all, that's why she kept someone like Gabe in her corner, problematic as the idiot was. So. She could relate. _Kind _of. Thank fucking Nayru Liv didn't have to deal with Gabe in quite the same way Ellie had to with _her _angry old man...

"Evening, Ladies," greeted 'John.'

"Hey, Gil," Ellie sighed. "Look, can we get some drinks, here?"

"Yea, no problem. Sorry for the wait, we're a little busy tonight. What can I get you?"

The table was vibrating – Liv could tell it was because Ellie's leg was bobbing up and down on her toe.

"Pint of Pyramid Head," Ellie drizzled out impatiently.

"Gotcha. And you, Liv?"

The two of them exchanged looks, Gil subtly bobbing his head toward Ellie with a raised brow. Sort of an unspoken sign between them, it meant, _'Business or casual?'_

Liv gave him a smile and nodded gently. _'Casual.'_"Same," Liv ordered, solidifying to Gil that this was a strictly social meeting, and that his help was not needed.

"Two pints of Pyramid Head, coming right up." Gil headed off.

Ellie sighed, still leaned back with her arms crossed. She was gazing off toward the counter.

"How come _he _always serves us?" Ellie grumbled. "What about the chick?"

"I ain't pretty enough for you?" Liv taunted, knowing damn well she was more Ellie's tastes than that wet blanket Julianne. "Is it 'cause I don't got enough _purple _in my hair?"

Ellie rolled her eyes and spit out a laugh through fluttered lips.

"Funny, but...-" Ellie smirked, her cheeks turning just a slight shade of pink. "I mean, would be _nice _to get acquainted with someone I actually have a _chance _with...-"

This intrigued Liv. She knew what Ellie's long-term goal was. Or, well, she _thought _she did. Maybe the person Ellie was looking for wasn't exactly who Liv thought it was? Hm. Something to reconsider.

Then again. Maybe Ellie was just thirsty for some ass, hell if Liv knew for sure.

"_Ha. _Trust me, you don't wanna go barking up _that _tree," Liv insisted, regarding the lady bartender. "She's got fancy hair, carries herself well, does a lot of social maintenance at the work place, but...-" Liv waved her indiex in a circle off in the direction of the woman in question. "-_that _girl is a _hot mess. _Believe me. You don't want anything to do with her."

Ellie's eyes narrowed at Liv's as she remarked, "So she _is _like you, then."

_Ffff. Fuck._

"You're not wrong, I guess," Liv begrudgingly admitted through a bemused smile.

Staring across the way, Ellie remarked casually, "Eh, she's got nicer legs than you, at least."

"Oh, _please,_" scoffed Liv.

"Think I'm wrong? Prove it. You never show yours off, so...-"

_Now _Ell was just being desperately thirsty.

"You need to get _laid, _huh?" Liv bluntly teased.

"Sure do," Ellie grumbled with a raw-throated huff, continuing to gape at the purple-twin-tailed woman across the bar.

"You know, there's people you can pay for that," said Liv.

"_Tsh, _yea, not exactly what I'm looking for."

Olivia shrugged. "Fair enough. So well-dressed barmaids are more your thing, then?"

Grinning a little with her cheeks flushed, Ellie's eyes rolled upward with some disbelief that they were even talking about this.

"Oh, yea? What about you and Mr. Stubble?"

"Who, _Gil?_"

"I _see _the little looks you two give each other," Ellie sniped, her tone confident and teasing. "Is _that _why it's always _him _who's waiting on us?"

Liv found herself wondering a thing or two about this concept, the thought having not actually passed her mind, with how business-oriented the two of them were. She could probably enjoy a screw or two with the fuck-boi if she _wanted _to. But, eh...-

"I don't mix business with pleasure," Liv airily waved the notion off.

"Except when it comes to _me_," Ellie pointed out with a cock of her head and a sly smirk. Well, damn. She had a point, there.

Sucking in a breath through her nose, Liv's head rolled slightly with consideration.

"_Aye, _you got me, Ell. Let's just say you're an exception to the rule."

"_Am _I, now?" Ellie goaded, her snarky expression dissolving quickly as Gil arrived with their drinks.

As Gil set down the two pints of beer, complete with Valhalla-branded glasses and coasters, Olivia replied.

"Don't let it get to your head, Ell."

"You two all set?" Gil checked. He swapped looks with Liv again, though now she was self-conscious about it. Figured that Ellie was a sharper tack than she put on, or at least a more observant one.

Gil had wedged his carrying tray beneath him arm, tucking the other hand primly behind his back. That gesture, combined with the way he bobbed his brows up and down once, signaled _'I have business to talk with you about later.'_

Sombra smirked b-...Erh, _Olivia_ smirked back at him and replied, "I think we're good for now, I'll catch up with you later."

"Enjoy," said Gil with a courteous nod, disappearing back to his work.

When she met Ellie's gaze, she was a little embarrassed at the way Ellie's cheeks were barely containing a red-faced laugh. That laugh escaped, and Liv sighed through her nose – loudly – as she took a chug of her beer.

"Undressing each other with your eyes?" teased Ellie.

"_Something _like that, maybe," Olivia mumbled, hoping that Ellie was at least sniffing out the wrong trail. Last thing she needed was this cover to be blown by someone she did not honestly want to cut ties with. "I _am _more into women, though."

"Oh, I _know_," Ellie recalled. "I heard you've been hooking up with a college girl? Seems a little cougar-ish. Even for _you._"

"What?" Liv was unsettled at the implication _but _also couldn't blame Ellie's assertion. After all, that was the play. Sounded like Ellie had partaken in a bit of gossip with her customer: Alex Olas. "Who are we talking about?" Liv played dumb.

"That blue-haired chick you were so fucking _desperate _for her contact info?" Ellie reiterated. "You know, Liv, if _that _was what you were after, you didn't have to, like...be so _secretive _about it...I don't judge." Ellie shrugged with emphasis, lowering her eyelids as she added, "Mostly. I mean, we _are _talking that 'schoolkid' age line you're crossing, but...-"

"_Pfff_," Olivia drizzled a sigh through a puff of air, unsure of how to reply to this. "_Eh, _you know how it is, Ell, a lady's got her needs, right?"

Ellie, mid-sip of beer, had changed her expression at that.

Swallowing and clearing her throat, Ellie wiped her lips with her sleeve – _'Eesh, you really want beer to stain on that?' _Liv's brain winced.

"Wait-wait-wait," Ellie backed up, the gears in her poor little head turning. "What would you want with _her_, if not..._that_?"

"Ellie, let's..._not_." Olivia could feel her chest tighten at the tension in Ellie's tone.

"No, no, maybe...let's..._do._ I want to know. You still won't _tell _me. Is it because you were _interested _in her, or not?"

"Look, you scratched my back, now I can scratch yours. I still owe you a _favor, _all right? You _still _haven't told me what _you_ want, even though I _know _there _is _something."

"That's-...Yea, OK, there _is._ But if you're pulling some of this, like, mad science shit on my _clients_? Kinda becomes-"  
"_Who _is she?" Liv spat, snapping her fingers as a signal to Ellie to _lower her fucking voice and change the subject DinDAMNIT woman._

The two glowered at each other, each taking a drink of their beers.

_FUCKING _A, _the whole point of this was to __**not deal with that shit **__for like a FEW MINUTES, Ellie._

"Well?" Olivia prodded. "You gonna tell me who you need me to track for you? Or what?"

"I never-...I didn't _say _I needed...-" Ellie's head shook, her eyes dodged, and she fussed with a button on her plaid shirt awkwardly.

"I know you're looking for somebody," Liv stated simply, quietly, before having another swig. "You can either keep biding your time, or you can just tell me who it is, and I will do what I do."

"How would you even _know_...-?" Ellie stopped herself, knowing what a stupid question that was. Flicking her hand up and drowning her thoughts in her drink, Ellie prattled, "Know what? Nevermind. Fuck it. You don't owe me anything, don't worry about it. I was just-...I was doing you a solid, as a friend, how about we leave it at that? Am I _allowed _to do that? Even?"

_Urgh, what is WITH you, Ell? Even when I'm trying to actually help you, you go and pull this crap. You really gonna make me play the whole fucking gushy card with you? For real?_

"Ellie, don't...-" Liv trailed off, pinching her nose as Ellie gave her a dismissive swat of her wrist, guzzling more beer.

"Tell me, Liv. Tell me why you _care _what I'm after. Is it so you have a carrot on a stick to, what, fucking _lure _me around with? Like Alex? Is it just a matter of time before _I _end up...-" Ellie stopped herself, but Liv knew where Ellie's mind had gone. _'-...where those girls we kidnapped are?' _Ellie took a breath, calmed herself down with a swish of beer, and groaned quietly. "What _is _this, Olivia? What _am _I to you, exactly? Am I _actually _an 'exception?'" She waggled her fingers into airquotes. "Or am I just..._another _act in the play? What was-...?" Ellie's face scrunched up as she recalled their meeting at the arcade the week prior. "'Exit Stage Right?' Or whatever? Is that what this is for you?"

Aaaaand fuck. Ellie really _was _fishing for it.

Olivia chewed at her lip a little, only to quickly catch herself, trying to avoid mucking up her painstakingly applied lip-gloss.

"Ellie, _look. _I don't..._want _to get into this right now, why the fuck do you think I brought you _here?_"

"I don't _know,_" Ellie grumbled. "Seems like you do _work _here, so _sorr-ee _if I don't exactly _believe _you when you say this is 'just a social call.'"

"It _is._"

"_Is _it, though? Or-..." Ellie stared around the bar with narrowed eyes. Leaning over the table, she hissed her accusation, "Or are we just meeting up here so you have a _convenient _excuse to 'bump into' someone you're stalking?"

Olivia could _feel _herself whimper internally, but kept it caged up.

"Look," Olivia tried to settle this. "I follow up on leads here. I do work here. But I _also _come here to relax. Don't _spoil _that for me, Ell."

Ellie flashed a defensive look that spoke silently: _'Then answer my question.'_

With a regressive grunt, Olivia's fingers slide down her cheek with some defeat. She did _not _like where this conversation had gone. She'd teased Winston about Lena, but if _she _could go back in time, she'd probably have avoided this little chat, herself.

"Ellie, you want me to track down whoever you're looking for? Why don't you tell me what you know about Caelondia?"

Hah, _that _sure got a reaction. A pretty pissed off one.

"...What? You _snooped _on me? You promised you weren't-"  
"I _didn't_," Liv pushed out. Hunched on her elbows across the table, she spoke in hushed tones. "But I _know _you well enough by now. And with what you're capable of, you think I haven't gotten my suspicions? What you've told me about what you and your _'dad' _went though sure sounds a _lot _like the kind of shit that went down in Caelondia."

"I thought we agreed to leave the past behind us," Ellie grumbled with a spiteful pout. That look wore off after a sip of her drink, giving way to that smoldering, ash-like hollowness she'd wear on occasion. "Unless you want to tell _me _about 'Sombra?' Huh?"

Liv's eyelids fell halfway with disdain. Was only a matter of time before Ellie figured _that _one out, but...still. Didn't have to go bringing it up in a place like this.

"Yea, I didn't _think _so," Ellie bitterly murmured, rotating her shoulders. They popped and cracked. "Maybe you've got 'protection' from that shit – from your past? But listen – me? I _don't. _It's just me, and Joel. That's it. That's all I've got."

Olivia's chest rattled and squirmed, her stomach tilting uneasily as the instantaneous thought _'You've got __**me, **__too' _popped in. Without her permission.

Scratching at the shaved side of her skull, Olivia managed to mutter out, "I mean, you _do _have me, too." She shrugged to add a layer of uncertainty to the sentence. Didn't want Ellie to go getting _too _attached, expecting _too _much, but fuck's sake, she just...-

Olivia needed to feel like she was helping _someone _she liked, for reasons that weren't just...caught up in all of this other shit. _How _long had it been? But yea, Ellie _had _Liv in her corner. In some fashion.

"Do I?" Ellie pressed, her tone softening. "Do you _actually _want to help me? Or is this just...-" She wriggled her hands. "-...back-scratching?"

Sighing through her nose with impatience, Olivia's palm slapped against the table.  
"I _want _to help you, Ell."

Ellie snorted a little, her head shaking slightly.

"I can't even-...Liv, I can't fucking tell when you're _lying _or not anymore."

"I'm not lying," Olivia grumbled, rubbing her fingertips against her temples. She wanted to palm her entire face up and down with frustration, but her makeup would get smeared to shit, and the bags under her eyes would become much more apparent than she'd prefer. "Ellie, business is business, favors for favors, we _both _have things to gain from each other. But I _like _you, OK?" Ellie drank her beer as Olivia spoke, carrying a _'uh-huh, sure, go on'_ about her. "_Fuck. _I just wanted-...Like, _two seconds _of my life, I wanted to just hang out with someone where I didn't have _worry _about _none _of this shit, and...-" Trailing off, Liv swallowed. She was losing her cool a bit, here, and she _hated _it. "You want to just drop this and go back to people watching? Shooting the shit, or...-? I mean, _anything, _Ellie, I need a fucking _break _from work."

Ellie's narrow eyes studied Olivia's. Liv tried to _push _out, telepathically, that she was being honest. Critically, Ellie sipped at her beer, sighed out, and set the glass down.

"Anna."

_Anna? The hell-?  
The chick she's looking for?  
Her mom, maybe?_

"Her name. The person I've been-..." Ellie shrugged, her lips pursing. "Her name's Anna."

_Not Riley, then, huh? Does that mean...-?_

Liv was silent but intently listening. Ellie slurped some more beer, belched a little, and went on.

"She was...myyy mom," Ellie stated, her eyes glazing over. "She left me in someone else's care when I was...real little, and-...I mean, that's sort of how I ended up in the Caelondian army, so...-"

"So. Wait, you were a _Firefly_?" Liv pondered, intrigued.

Ellie nodded, her brows raising and lowering a bit.

Huh. Interesting. Olivia had assumed that Ellie had just been a solider in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hadn't occurred to her that Ellie had been _raised _in the wrong place. But then again, made sense of why Ellie seemed so defensive about her history. If you went around bragging that you were a refugee – a _soldier _– from the country that 'brought its own destruction on itself,' you probably weren't going to have an easy time making friends.

And yet, go figure – Ellie was having enough trouble with that, anyway.

"Maybe we can...talk about this some other time," Ellie said, her eyelids drifting closed as her nose wrinkled. She rubbed at her eyes, and Liv found her own eyes getting irrationally damp. She didn't even know why. Maybe just the intensity of this entire mess, stacked on top of every _other _Farore-damned thing on her mind.

"Wh-..._Pfffff_..." Olivia let air puff out of her lips. She had built up some incorrect expectations that had just been broken. It was refreshing, in a sense, but also tiring. Loosening her ponytail a bit, Olivia said after a moment, "OK, so. What's her _last _name?"

"I don't..._know_," said Ellie with some disbelief, dropping an exasperated grunt of a sigh.

"...Well, how do you expect me to find her if I don't-"  
"_Just-...!_" Ellie was walling up again. Clenched teeth, trembling palms, whole deal. "I'm trying to, like...open up to you here, this isn't-..._ugh. _Everything is a fucking _job _to you..."

"No, no-no, nah-nah-nah-nah," Olivia vehemently waggled her index finger. "I'm a _problem _solver, Ellie, _you _fucking know that." She jabbed that finger against the table. "I'm trying to think of what to _do _for you, OK?"

"I don't _want _you to be a 'problem solver,' I want you to...-" Ellie's eyes were flickering in a pained way that Olivia didn't quite understand, but knew translated to disappointment. "Look, sorry I bothered you with it, let's...not worry about it."

"You _honestly _expect me to just drop it?" Liv snapped her finger. "Just like that? You go throw this megaton at me, and I'm supposed to just _sit _on it?"

"Actually. Yea. I don't-..." Ellie thrust up one hand, grabbing her drink with the other. "I don't know what I was expecting, but...-" She guzzled the last of her beer down. Coughing and wiping her face into her sleeve, she dropped her glass unceremoniously onto the coaster. "Look, hey, you want to try to look into it? Fine. I'm not supposed to _'expect' _things from you, though, right? So, whaddya know, I'm _not gonna. _You want to just 'chat?' Ignore the serious shit? I get that. That's what _I _wanted, too, Liv, I did. But. Guess we _can't _today. Already crossed that line into 'favors' and 'business' territory, so...-" Ellie fussed through her pockets, wrangling out a five-bison bill, and slapped it on the table by her glass. "Tell your fuck-boi friend I said 'g'night,' you wanna come here to see _him _more than me. I'm out, text me when you have _work _for me, OK?"

Olivia's face felt like it was melting, like all of her makeup was going to just...drip off, revealing the wrinkled, bug-eyed, droopy-faced fucking _mess _she felt was sitting beneath the mask.

As Ellie shoved her jacket on with a stingy, tight-lipped look of frustration, Olivia's mind was racing.

She was supposed to be good at this. At adapting when things didn't go to plan. At saying the right things at the right time, at diffusing bombs and putting out fires, at hacking through firewalls and through minds, at being able to read through _personal _walls to see vulnerabilities.

But she was so fucking tired. And embarrassed – an emotion she often forgot she could be vulnerable to. Maybe Sandra the Unseeing was rubbing off on her in the wrong ways – making her forget just how human she actually _was._

"Got nothing for me, huh, Liv?" Ellie spitefully mumbled. "Thought you knew how to _talk _to a lady..."

Why did Olivia feel like...crying?  
She wanted to cry.  
What the hell?

_Did not see __**this **__coming. The fuck is __**wrong **__with me tonight?_

This didn't make any sense. This was more than Ellie, this was-...It was a lot. It was everything.  
Maybe she was actually juggling _too _much?

The _one thing _all week she'd want to do, to get right, to feel like she was doing something _good _in this shit-pile town without needing to _pull _on someone's strings, without needing to do something morally gray or _black,_ and she couldn't even manage _that. _She physically couldn't just _exist like a normal person with a normal person. _And it wasn't like she could call someone else up, get some _other _friend to cheer her up. Most she had was...Los Muertos. And _that _wasn't gonna be a pillar she leaned on for _this _crap. Personal shit? No. No way, not at all. Couldn't afford to.

"_Ffssh._" Ellie seemed unimpressed by Olivia's paralysis as she shoved her chair in. But Liv also...just didn't have the energy to try to recover from this right that moment. Maybe it was a good thing in disguise. Maybe it was a mistake to even _think _this relationship could be anything more than 'just business,' just an excuse to be in certain places at certain times.

Olivia _wanted _it to be. She needed a..._'friend?'  
_IRL, no pretenses, no chat rooms, no hacking, just...someone to fucking knock back a drink with.

_Why _did she find herself so suddenly frustrated, disappointed, self-deprecated at the notion of having _failed _to accomplish such a simple task?

She got a text message that she instinctively checked. Robotic. Habitual.

( From: Gabe )  
( moira needs you to look into this. )

It was that impending text from Gabe, giving her a screenshot of details on that thing Moira wanted her to look into. Shit. She'd almost forgot...And she _did not _forget stuff like that. What was _wrong _with her?

"Right. Yea," Ellie scoffed, still lingering at the table, still _waiting _for some kind of reply. Olivia wasn't going to give her one. "Forget I'm even here, you've got '_more important things' _to do, right?" She wanted to throw a tantrum? Try and make Liv look like some idiot? Try and manipulate _her_?

_Fine, Ellie. Fuck you very much, maldita perra._

Ellie stomped off with a quiet mumble of, "Yea, good talk, _'Sombra.'_"

Ellie's eyes were ready to drip out tears as she tore through the bar, her jacket not yet zipped. Rubbing her shaking hands against one another, she lamented who'd be waiting just outside. She just couldn't deal with it, but she had no other choice.

What pissed her off wasn't that Liv didn't care. She _knew _Liv cared, she could _tell. _What pissed Ellie off was that it was like Liv didn't _want _to. She _avoided _it. They hadn't met at that bar to 'just be social,' and yet Ellie _knew _Liv actually enjoyed her company. It all made no fucking _sense, _why string her along, why go _through _the kind of shit together that they had, if they couldn't just sit and have a single drink together?

Ellie had her underground life, too. Was it as _fancy _as, like, being an 'Information Broker?' No, nope, nah. Ellie dealt _drugs. _Hardcore drugs, _sometimes. _Real high-end shit, right? But she understood, Liv had high stakes work, and they _did _both gain things from each other, sure. Work was work, but hanging out needed to be _hanging out._ Ellie needed Olivia to leave all of her 'Sombra' double-life bullshit at the _door, _or...this just wasn't to go work.

Ellie tiredly shoved the metal door to the bar open with her shoulder. She emerged into the small, concrete dead-end road that the bar sat tucked within, posters and vending machines almost hiding its entrance.

And there he was, like always, lurching just outside. Leaning against a soda machine, Joel was looking as grumpy and impatient as ever. He'd been waiting the whole time. Alone. Grouchy. By his own choice, really. Not that Ellie would've invited him in had he asked, though she would admit she'd be hard pressed to stop him if he'd really wanted to.

As Ellie passed him by, he posed, "You _done _putzin' around with that damn _parasite_?"

"Oh, _you're _one to fucking talk," Ellie grumbled right back at him, knowing he was following right behind her.

"She is just _usin' _you, kiddo. You-...I mean, _you see that, _right? You do. _Have _to."

"At least she _pays _me," retorted Ellie, zipping up her jacket. "That doesn't make her a parasite."

"Pays '_us,' _think ya mean," Joel corrected, reaching her side as they stomped through the slushy sidewalks.

"Whatever," Ellie huffed with a roll of her eyes. Like that technicality _mattered_.

She hit the end of this tiny, cramped alleyway that counted as a 'street' and veered left, heading down a main road sidewalk. Subway station was that way. She was going _straight _home.

And Joel wasn't going to be silent on the way back, it seemed.

"Either way you wanna slice that shit, Ellie, she ain't no _friend _o' yours."

"Right. 'Cause _no one _is, I get it."

"Good," Joel quipped back impatiently. "Go gettin' distracted by fancy hair n' smooth talk, n' watch what happens. Look where that got yer pal _Frank_."

"Which _one_?"

"_Puh-! _Either of 'em, smart-ass."

Ellie shook her head, her eyes squinting for a moment as she tried to drown his negativity away. Olivia was...who she was, sure, Ellie knew what kind of person Liv was, but no way would Liv do to her what this Rachel Amber person had done to Frank. No way.

"And don't go _thinkin' _she won't flip on you," Joel pointed out, reading her mind – naturally. "'Cause believe you me, she _will. _Second you ain't any use to her."

"Just like Tess?" Ellie reminded. "Funny, 'cause I don't recall _that _going down like you expected."

"That was _different,_" Joel grunted. "That was for _your _sake, you _know _it. If it was just me n' her, I _promise _you, I'd have a damn _knife _in my back – else she'd have one in _hers._"

"_Tch_." Ellie's jaw lulled open with irate amusement. "Would that really be _that _different than how it turned out?"

"Don't you _sass _me, I'm bein' _straight _with you. That purple-haired bimbo's gonna lead you to-"  
"She _what_, Joel? _Huh?!_" Ellie spat, freezing in her tracks and spinning to her side. "You think I _care _what the fuck you _think_ about her?! After the shit _you've _done? After the shit _I've _done?! Get off my _fucking _back, dude!"

A mother and her kid had been walking by just as this occurred, and were offput by Ellie's sudden outburst, right in their direction. They'd frozen in their tracks, staring at her with wide-eyed fear.

Ellie realized how menacing she probably looked to them in that moment. Her fists were out at her sides, her teeth were clenched. Steam was pouring out of her nostrils and dissipating into the chilled air, and she could _feel _how red her face was.

Her eyes locked with the little kid's. She was scaring him.

Joel, arms crossed, just puffed out a disbelieving laugh through his nose, shaking his head.

"_Hoowwww _many times we gon' do this, Ellie?" Joel mumbled, his body rotating slightly to watch as the mother cautiously whisked her kid away.

"You-..." Ellie whispered through her teeth. She sniffed, wiping her runny nose with her sleeve. "You don't get to _give_ me that shit..."

Maybe he was dead on. Maybe Olivia _was _just using her. If that was the case, the whole relationship was just an illusion, right?

Sure as fuck was a more pleasant illusion than the ones she'd lived through already. The ones she'd barely escaped the fallout of.

Her legs suddenly weak, her breathing suddenly short, her cheeks hot and her hands cold, Ellie stuffed her quivering fists into her pockets and marched onward, silent.

And Joel followed, as he always did.

Joel was always there, always looming around the next corner, following over her shoulder, always with a criticism, a complaint, a warning, a fucking cloud looming over her every damn move. The longer she was stuck with him in this city, the more she looked forward to finally breaking free from all of it. She just had no idea _how. _But something told her Olivia _did._

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Mae peeled the goggles off their face as Gregg pulled the bike into the empty, dingy parking lot. Place wasn't even lit. There were cracks _all _over, some plants and stuff starting to grow out of it. Man. This joint had seen some better days.

Oh, right, Gregg was...saying something.

"-and so I just..._forgot. _For all I know, could be there."

They'd been talking about Gregg's helmet. The old as heck one with the spike – used to be some army helmet Gregg's great granddad had wore in the war. It was the one Mae usually ended up stuck with when riding with Gregg, but...since they'd lost it, Mae was just...not wearing a helmet. Screw safety, like Mall Cop Aunt Molly was gonna stop 'em.

"Guess we'll have to remember next time."

"Wait. What? You forgot to ask?" Mae checked, surprised. It had been a _little _bit since they'd been to that bar, and Mae was starting to feel bad they hadn't found the helmet yet. Only place they hadn't really checked yet was that spot.

"I mean, last time we went there, we went there to _drink, _hang out," Gregg pointed out, his bike slowly puttering forward. "Whole reason we were there was 'cuz I was all depressed and tired from work. Got wasted too quick to even _bother _remembering to ask."

"Duder," said Mae, sucking in a nervous breath through grit teeth. "I was _thinking _about it, and I'm _pretty _sure I left it there."

"Really?" said Gregg, rolling the bike to a gentle stop.

"Yea, man. Like. Somewhere around 65% sure."

As he switched the vehicle off, Gregg noted, "That's a decent amount of sure."

"_Eghh. _Maybe I should swing by tomorrow before work? See if they have a lost and found..."

"Thaaaat would be appreciated."

"I gotchu." Mae offered a quick fist-bump, which was accepted.

"So who else is showing up?" Mae asked. "Chlo?"

"_Nahhh, _said she needed to spend time with Max for once."

"Bummer. I'd say, like, invite Max to come, too, but...-"  
"But crimes."  
"Crimes."  
"Chloe's got that new job keeping her busy now, too."  
"It's like her boss schedules her in a way specifically designed to screw us over."  
"Right?" Gregg agreed to this completely untrue statement.  
"How's an adult supposed to make time for _crimes _when..._job_?"  
"_When _job," Gregg sighed knowingly.

"Uh...-" Mae sniffed as they walked, this concept raising a question in their mind. "So, like, yea, _speakin' _of...Why you been so gung-ho with the illicit activities as of late?"

"Huh?"

"The crimes, Gregg. Don't get me wrong, I am _liking _getting back into the game. But. Thought you were a _changed man._"

"I _am _a changed man, the hell you talkin' about?" Gregg's words were serious, but his tone was _not._

"Isn't Angus going to like...not be happy if he finds out you're hanging out with me like this again?"

"Maybe?" Could barely make out Gregg's shrug in the dark. "He already _knows _we're hanging out more often. I already checked with him. We're good."

"Just...not with crimes."

"I don't see _you _draggin' _your _roommate out here..."

"Well, yea. 'Cuz Alex is like...a wet blanket that also got dropped into a hay stack, and then rolled around in it."

After a moment, Gregg replied, "That sounds inconvenient and uncomfortable."

"_Exactly._"

They reached the front of the building. It felt...gross. Place was falling apart. What even _was _this?

"So, uh...just us, then," Mae prodded, bumping Gregg's shoulder with their knuckle.

"Like old times," said Gregg.

Gregg grinned toothily, nodding his head up at the dilapidated building before them. The giant lettered sign above the rusted over, gate-locked door had fallen apart.

{ **F edd Faz a 's P z ** }

Huh. Why did this seem familiar? Couldn't place their finger on it...

Gregg started looking around, then checked his phone.

"But seriously, Greggers," Mae asked, _"Why _are we out here? Doing...whatever you've been scheming?"

Typing out a quick text, Gregg said with a grizzly tone, "I've been living too clean, Mae."

"Damn right," Mae spat, having felt this for months, and glad their best friend was self-aware.

"We _run this town,_" Gregg cited, hearkening back to their dumb days as dumb teens doing _dumb shit_.

"We _used _to run this town," Mae lamented, pacing a bit in front of Gregg.

Gregg seemed elsewhere for a sec, looking at his phone. There was a loud, unsettling clanging noise that came from...somewhere. Couldn't tell. Inside this haunted house of a store? Made both Mae and Gregg flinch.

"Must be him," Gregg decided, sending another text. He put his phone away, and went back to surveying the dingy, dark parking lot around them. "He should be meeting us any second," Gregg mumbled.

"Who?"

"You don't know him, I don't think."

"Try me."

"Oh, _hey!_" Gregg said sharply, waving his hand out to some figure in the dark. Totally ignoring Mae.

Mae wedged their fingers into their butt pockets as they waited for whoever it was to approach them.

"That your guy?" Mae checked, referring to Gregg's vague _'I got a guy who's gonna help us.'_

_Man, _something about this place was familiar...Too fucking dark to really see anything, though. What on earth were they about to get up to? Why was Gregg being so secretive about it? And _why _did they need 'a guy' to help them? What on hyrule could be worth stealing in a spoopy garbage dump like _this?_

Gregg turned on the little flashlight attached to his jacket pocket, and the man in front of them squinted and growled, holding his hands up to shield himself.

And then Mae recognized the bastard.

"Oh, _hell _no."

"'Sup, ladies?" greeted the low, grumbling voice of a prick Mae _did _know.

"_Ugh. _Fucking Steve Scriggins? Seriously?"

Gregg had switched his light off, but the guy's face was visible for a moment when he lit up a cigarette. Mae couldn't make out his clothes, but he had his messy, black hair slicked over to one side, his hairline receding a little. His skinny face had...hair. _Sorrrrt of. _Like, enough to be more than stubble, but also too patchy and inconsistent to, like...make any sense. It was just weird. And ugly. Like the _inside of him._

The asswipe made a fart noise with his mouth.

"Did you...just actually make a fart noise?" Mae dryly remarked.

"Hweheheh." Apparently stupid laughing counted as a response.

Steve Scriggins was an Asshole of the Class A, capital A, Extraordinary League of Assholes variety. Mae barely knew him, but they knew _enough, _and all the stuff they'd _heard _only confirmed things.

"Took you long enough," Scrotum Scriggins said. "You ladies get _lost _or something? Maybe lose yer nerve?"

"Nah, we're here," Gregg said, taking on that steel-like stance he did with these kinds of things. "Deal's a deal, Steve, and I'm ready to collect."

"I ain't forgot," Steve groaned quietly.

"You _sure _these things are still _in _there?" Gregg checked, peering at the barricaded door with his light. Well, 'barricaded?' with a question mark. More like broken. The metal fencing door on the outside layer looked all rusted and nasty. Gregg checked some of the windows – did _not _look too good. Half of 'em were busted.

"Pretty sure," said Steve. "Some mall-rats took selfies in here a week or so ago. Back door still looked shut tight. All them rumors, and that accident? No wonder nobody wants to touch the things. Probably threw away the key and called it a day."

"Which is _exactly _why this is a good plan," Gregg said. "Talk about a quick buck. You _know _some folks will pay some good cash for _those _fuckers..."

"..._What _are we doing?" Mae asked, completely lost.

"Did you forget?" Gregg sighed, his tone getting a little irritated. "We're _stealing, _Mae."

"...Right. Yea. No, I-...I'm ready for this."

Mae _had _forgot. Apparently. So maybe...Gregg _wasn't _being secretive? And Mae was just...having bad memory again? Come to think, what had Mae had for lunch? Or had they skipped lunch?

Steve paused, then leaned in toward Gregg, muttering into his ear, "She _ready _for this?"

Mae didn't even bother trying to correct the dickweed on the pronoun thing.

"Mae's good," Gregg assured, after a weird pause. Probably knew himself it was no use trying to enforce any kind of gender titles with _this _asswipe. "We're good. So where's this muscle you hired?"

Wow, 'muscle?' What the hell kind of operation _was _this?

"She's already inside," said Steve, heading toward a window. "Probably has the door open by now."

Wait, '_she?_' Muscle? She? Oh. Oh, Mae was suddenly double-in on this gig now.

Steven slinked his stupid slimey self through the window.

Gregg hesitated.

"Wait, like...we can't go through the door?" Gregg sighed.

"Are you pussying out on me?" Steve called from inside, his voice even creepier than usual as it echoed.

"Think he means 'dicking'," said Mae. "'Cuz, let's be real, pussies are way tougher."

Gregg ignored Mae's remark, huffed through his nose, then took a step back, making sure his chest-light was working.

"Here," he said, giving Mae a pat on the back. "I'll light you up, you go in first."

"Heh. Scared," Mae gently taunted him, eagerly tossing themself in. Window didn't even have any glass at that point.

"Whatevs," Gregg mumbled dismissively, following them in.

Mae's senses were instantly plunged into despair. They could not see, but _hooooo crap _could they smell.

"What _stinks?_" Mae choked.

"My _ass_," said Steve. Smart-ass. _No. _Dumb-ass.

Already past done with this clown, Mae pointed out, "I _remember _you, ya know."

"Bet _everyone _remembers _you_," Steve countered. Mae was gonna avoid what he prolly meant.

Their conversation was echoing through this scary, smelly, empty place. Each footstep felt spooky. Broken glass, rocks, some _weeds _even, what the shit? _Man. _Mae could make out what looked like...a run down...playground? Or something? Indoors? And, like...a _stage? _In the back? Dude, _shit, _was this...-?

"...-_take 'em on_!" some...voice said. From the other side of the building. On the stage.

"_Whooaaaa, _OK, whoa, nope. _Nope. _Stop." _Oooooo who dat who dat?__  
_Whoever 'dat' was, she sounded like someone Mae wanted to meet.

"_Ayyylleeee __**OOP**__._" A thudding sound as someone...hopped off the stage?

"That you, Scriggs?" called out 'dat who.'

"'Ey," Steve called back. "Got that bitch's clam opened yet?"

"...What?" She sounded confused and annoyed. Good sign.

Mae rolled their eyes at whatever crass shit Steve had been trying to say.

"The _door, _Susie. The fucking _door. _You get it open?"

"_Yea, _I got it _open, _the hell you think I've been _doing_?"

"Babysitting."

"I'm the _dad. _I'm not a baby," said a voice. Which was clearly definitely fucking goddesses no no it was a KID why was a kid what urghhhh. "Do I _look _like a baby?"

"...You _sorta _do," said the woman, in a kind of gruff but...joking way. "And you're _not _a dad. Don't ever _become _one, either..."

"...Mm. Gotcha."

They were getting close, and Mae could at least make out that there _was _a fucking kid. Ugh.

"Why'd you bring _him _here?" Steve growled. "This ain't no place for pre-pubes. The fuck?"

"I dunno know what that is," said the kid. "But I don't...think I'm that."

"Just lookin' after him for a bit," said this 'Susie' person to Steve. "He doesn't got-...Just, whatever. Don't worry about him. He'll be fine, he won't be a problem. Right?" The woman turned to the kid.

"Not unless you wanna get _thrashed,_" jeered the child, pounding his fist into his palm. Size, voice, sounded...probably middle-school?

"Fucking Farore_, _we do _not _need this shit tonight," Steve grunted into his palm.

"Look, Steve, whatever," said Gregg. "Are we _doing this _or what?"

"_Are _we? What if this kid ends up _snitching_?"

"He ain't going to _snitch_, Steve," defended Susie. "Grow some balls, man."

"You said you got the door opened?" said Gregg, pointing his light toward them.

Mae focused on the big woman, not the door.

She was a tall, thick lady with enormous, meaty arms and hands. Her jeans were stained and bleached, with some stringy holes torn into them from wear and tear – her chunky knees were both showing, legs like tree trunks. She had on a maroon jacket with a denim undershirt. Her thick mane of hair was dyed magenta, but faded, resting beneath a studded black beanie, with the back chunk hastily tied into a short tail. Broad shouldered, flat-chested, big-bodied – she was intimidating and, from certain angles, outright scary.

Mae liked her. This 'Susie' person.

"You Gregg?" asked Susie. "Gregg Lee?"

"...Yea?"

"You don't remember me?" said Susie, pressing a hand to her stomach.

Gregg paused, then said, "Not really?"

"..._Fffsss. _OK..." Susie shook her head, clearly offended. "Nevermind, then."

"_Ohhhh, _wait-wait," Gregg snapped his fingers. "You that girl who got expelled for...-?"

"For eating chalk?" said Susie. Almost like a brag.

"..._What _now?" Mae was intensely curious. Partially because _ohhh shiny new muscle lady _but also, like...seriously, what?

"Holy _shit, _yea!" Gregg was laughing. "_Dude. _What...-? Small _world._"

"You were _saying_," Steve intruded. "About getting this thing _done_?"

"Oh, right, right, yea..." Gregg snapped to. "Holy _shit, _though, man..." he murmured under his breath, apparently surprised to recognize Susie. Mae felt kind of annoyed that _they _didn't recognize this chick.

The lot of them were scuttling around the metal, heavy duty door that looked...open.

Mae was lingering behind them. That kid waddled up and looked up at them. There was a weird silent moment where they both...looked at each other. Mae's eyes were adjusting to the dark, but...it was still pretty dark. They could see the kid _grinning _at them. It was actually pretty creepy.

"_Ho ho ho_." Uh. OK?  
He was like..._saying _'ho ho ho.' Not actually laughing.

"...Yo. Yo yo," Mae replied flatly. They had no patience for kids. So they told themself.

Mae could hear a half-empty can of liquid sloshing around in the kid's hand. He took a sip, burped, and groaned slightly.

Steve, Gregg, and Susie were peering into the back office area, or whatever it was, making some commotion. Gregg's light was swerving around – Mae could make out some kinda hallway, looked spoopy. Aaaand the three of them were going right in. Guess...now _Mae _was babysitting. Goddessdamnit.

"So. What's _your _story?" Mae asked, curious enough.

"I'm...-!" The kid stuck out his hand, offering Mae the can. They took it for him – it was a thin and tall can. The kid flapped out his flabby arms and did a twirl. "I'm the bad guy."

Huh. Maybe Mae had misjudged this lad.

"Oh, dang," said Mae. "No _wonder_ you creeped me out."

"_Wow, _did I really?" the kid quickly double-checked, his voice all whispery and excited.

Mae snorted a small laugh, aghast.

"Hell _yea _you did," they assured, amused.

"_Ho ho. Hweh hweh. Keh keh keh._"  
Again, like...speaking these sounds, not...actually laughing.

He was a round-bellied, short kid with pudgy limbs, big dimples, and a goofy grin beneath his sunglasses. It was, uh, night out. Did he know it was night out? How in the fuck could he _see?_

"Want your drink back?" Mae asked.

"...Mm. No. You can have it." Another small burp. His voice suddenly _jumped up _an octave. "I'm still **boost** from the **juice!**" He cackled a little, walking in a circle around Mae. Bumped into them, shrugged it off, kept meandering. Maybe he _couldn't _see...

Mae contemplated the offer re: ENERGY drank. There was a loud banging noise in the background, Susie roaring. Like, actual roar. Definitely had just busted something big made of metal. Damn, she sounded _ripped. _Like, scarily so. Even Gregg uttered out a _"Holy SHIT, _man...!" from down the hall.

"_Eh? _See? Wha'd I tell ya?" Fucking Steve.

As their voices muffled even further, entering a room completely out of sight, Mae sloshed the can in their hand a little.

"...What _is _this stuff?" Mae asked the kid, swishing the can around as they tried to follow sight of the crazed child. Some kind of sugar rush, huh?

"_Golden DASH!_" blurted the kid with a deep, croaking voice, like he was possessed.

Oh, damn. Golden Dash was Mae's go-to energy drink. Had a shining golden shroom with a little face, and a little crown on it as the logo/mascot. Recent years they'd given it ANGRY EYES 'cuz that was obviously what the young folk wanted on their canned drinks. Either way, this shit gave you a turbo boost, all right, like shrooms, indeed. No wonder the kid was loopy. And Mae _was _pretty tired...-

As the sounds of metal scraping along the ground echoed from the hallway in front of them, Mae decided to chug the remaining energy drink in one fell swoop. _Yahhh-HOOO~_

_**-sssssssrrrrrrsssss-**__  
_Dragging of something metal and heavy was getting closer._  
_  
"My teeth feel like they are MELTING," chortled the child.

"...That's...not good," grunted Susie, dragging out...wait-...What? Susie was choking a little as she set it down, wheezing. "Holy _hell _does this thing _stink_..."

_-__thuh__**kunk**__-__  
_Susie dropped...something on the ground. Was about as big as _she _was, farore's sake.

Mae was strangely _drawn _to it. And yea, it...smelled _awful. _Like, so bad, it overpowered the already bad smell of the rest of the place. So Mae got to experience the feeling of overwhelming stench all _over _again. They took out their phone, fumbling for their flashlight, and shone a beacon on...a dead body? A giant toy?

It was...like, a robotic...bunny. With a big, horrific smile. Missing an eyeball and some teeth.

Holy hylian shitballs, it was Bonnie the Bunny. Those horrifying faces had been _burned _into the back edges of Mae's skull from childhood.

"Holy _fuck,_" Mae burst out with a disbelieving laugh. "Freddy's?" With lifted brows, they turned to Gregg, a spark of nostalgia in their eyes. "That old _pizza _joint? We're at _Freddy's? _Are we...-?" Mae watched as Steve and Gregg shambled out, together, dragging another animatronic monstrosity. They dropped it on the ground next to the last one. It was a terrifying, gleeful brown bear robot. "We're kidnapping Freddy Fazbear's _Pizzeria Band_?!"

This was...simultaneously the worst _and _best caper Gregg had ever concocted.

"Uh...What?" Susie grumbled, taking a couple steps back. "Also, who are _you, _anyway?"

"Oh wut me lil' ol' me haahhh _I'm Mae_," panted Mae, reaching out a hand to grasp at this delightfully butch woman's beefy beefy arm to shake it. By the arm. Not even the hand. Susie _shook her arm back._ Oh my. Oh yes. Mm. Haha.

"Mae's with me," said Gregg, wheezing a little from the effort of dragging out fucking FREDDY FAZBEAR IN THE METALLIC FLESH WHAT THE SHIT GREGGORY?

Susie shook her arm _again._

"...K." Susie huffed hot air through her big nose. "That's...my arm."

"It is," said Mae, trying not to lose their cool. Could feel the energy drink kicking IN already, but that coulda also been sleep deprivation, or hormones, _or _deep-seated terror at the fact that they were about to pilfer a town LEGEND, the city BOOGEYMEN, for profit. How fucking bad-ass.

"Uh...-" Susie gripped Mae's clingy hand with her opposite hand, _pried _Mae's grip off, and shook her arm loose. "Yea, sorta..._need _these arms. Here. To move the-..._What _did you call these piles of garbage? Pizza band...?"

"You never been to _Freddy's_?" Mae balked, their body rolling with second-hand disappointment. "Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria?"

Incredulous, Susie held out her palms and shook her head.

"Never really...got out much as a kid, so...-"

"Oh my _goddesses,_" Gregg groaned. "_Noooo, _tragedy! Terror! Horror!"  
"No seriously actually tho terror and horror," Mae eked out dryly and rapidly.

"Urh...-" Susie glanced down at the two horrifying, SMILING robots crumpled on the floor before them. "Yea. _Why _would I wanna go to a place with things like _this_? Ever?"

"Because of the uh, _ya _know...-" Mae waggled their limbs robotically, rotating around and bugging their eyes out. Gregg began to mimic them, and the pair made up an impromptu animatronic dance routine on the spot.

"golly GAWRSH, it's time for PIZZA!"  
"uhhh-**HYUCK**."

Susie's expression wilted from dull disinterest to teeth-grit wariness.

Susie uttered, "...Yea. Uh...I totally got the whole experience right now, though. So I'm, uh-...I'm good. You can stop."

The goofy kid, chuckling up a storm, quickly joined them in their robot dance, even busting out an attempt at break-dancing which resulted in him sliding into his stomach, cheek skidding against the cracked, dirty floor.

"_heheheh_"  
"hawww haww"  
"**ho ho ho!**"

"Said you can _stop_," Susie snarled. Everyone immediately listened, freeze-framing before Susie's deep voice even stopped echoing.

"Fuckin' lunatics," Scriggins grumbled, sucking on his cancer stick as he wiped rust off his sleeve.

"_Man,_" Mae sighed after things fell too quiet. "This place was the _shit _back in the day," they reminisced, the smells of soda and pizza mixing with plastic and old, ugly carpets. "I mean. Before it shut down."

"...If it was _really _so great, why'd it shut down?" Susie took the bait.

"The Bite of '97 was the start of it," Mae growled in a raspy, theatrical voice. "And then the _murders _began..." They wriggled their fingers dramatically in the dark.

"_Yeaaa, _fucking _NAYRU, _man!" Gregg squealed. He was shining his light into Bonnie the Bunny's empty eye socket. "You think there's _actually _dead bodies hiding in these things?"

The kid offered, "I brought a bucket in case you need to drain 'em for blood."

_Just _as he went to go run off, Susie effortlessly caught him by the hood.

"Lancer," Susie sighed, rubbing at her nose tiredly.

"What?" the kid whimpered, not able to pull himself out of Susie's grip. She let him go.

"Stay here," she commanded in a worn-out tone.

"_I'm _staying," the child insisted defensively.

Gregg mused, "Can you _imagine _how much someone will _pay _for this creep show?"

"I mean..." Mae wheezed reluctantly, imagining what _owning _these relics would be like. Like, imagine having company over and asking them to go get wine out of your wine cellar (which you totally had in this theoretical scenario) and they went down there only there were _these _fuckers smiling at them instead of wine. "I'm _kinda _sad we've got no place to _keep _'em."

"What, you wanna _buy _'em?" sighed Steve, waving on the others to come help him get the rest of the band.

"_Hellll _nope," said Mae. "Just-...Yea. Wow."

"I'll buy 'em!" shouted the kid suddenly, kicking Freddy Fazbear in the nose. "How much?"

"More than you've _got_," Susie dismissed his optimism. "Now c'mon, man, stay away from 'em, don't _touch _'em. Just...-" She sighed when the kid chuckled, kicking Freddy again.

"_get thrashed_," Lancer whispered with glee.

With a short groan, Susie _picked _the kid up with both hands and _plopped _him down next to Mae like it was nothing.

"Look, Lancer," Susie grumbled. "Stay here with-..._Who_ are you again?"

"Hahhh _I'm Mae._"

"Yea. That. Stay with her."

"Them," Mae corrected Susie.

"What?"

"...What?"

Nice. Nailing it. Totally getting a number when this was all over, right?

"Stay _here,_" Susie said to the kid, "You _promised _you were gonna listen to me."

"I _am _listening!" said the child.

"Well, yea. So. Good...Keep doing that, then," Susie huffed quietly.

"_Susie!_" hissed Scrotum Scriggins from down the hall. "Earn yer _keep, _bitch!"

"Asshole," Susie puffed under her breath. "Anyway. _You_. Mae." Hoh damn, Mae _wished _they could see Susie's eyes clearly, but it was too dark. "You keep an eye on him." She gestured at the kid.

"Sir, yessir, ma'am," Mae spat, thrusting a hand up to their forehead.

Susie lingered awkwardly for a second, sighed, then walked off, her big boots clopping down the hall.

For a few minutes, Mae kept the child occupied by asking questions, answering questions, grabbing him when he went to wander off down the hall, grabbing him when he went to touch the animatronics, grabbing him when he tried to climb back onto the broken stage..._Whew. _A lotta chasing and grabbing. Mae was too old for it.

But, eventually, the others managed to get all four members of the band out, and Gregg went to work disassembling them. Apparently, they would need to be, _ya _know. Taken apart. Cleaned. Put back together. It sounded like a _whole _thing. Made Mae wonder if it'd be worth it, but then they remembered: fucking FREDDY FAZBEAR'S PIZZERIA BAND, man. _Someone _would pay top money for that shit.

Taking a break from her hard labor, Susie shoved her back against a nearby wall and let Gregg do _his _part on this gig – which, by the way, was Mae getting a cut outta this? Or...-?

"Can't you do this part _later_?" Steve hassled Gregg.

"It'll make transporting these things _easier_," Gregg pointed out as he wriggled with his tools. "Not to mention we could actually _hide _them this way."

"Fine," Steve sighed. "How long this gonna take?"

"I watched some videos online about this stuff, I _got _this, gimme like twenty minutes."

"Fucking A," Susie huffed, slamming herself against a nearby wall. Leaned up against the wall with one boot pressed against it, arms crossed, eyes closed, Susie was...**humming...**

The simple tune was...weirdly mesmerizing. Fucking _transported _Mae somewhere else, felt like. Or maybe that was the Golden Dash talking. Felt like Mae was ridin' on a _cloud _for a minute. Or, more like, being dragged..._by _a cloud?

Whatever.

Mae was _elsewhere__, _man.

And everything was..._shapes. _For a few seconds. Or maybe minutes? Hours?  
Eh. Made no difference.

LINES in the sky. Going on forever. Bright lines. Like the sky was reflecting something, a pool of ice, and Mae was standing upside down on the sky.

By the time Mae tried to blink, they realized they weren't alone. Sort of.

Where everyone had been standing, there were, like...shadows. Five shadows. Vaguely...people shaped?

What was this? Another vision, another nightmare?

"Hey," Mae tried to greet the shadows. They turned to dust, instantly.

_-shink . k . k . k .!_-

OH FUCK

Yea. There was someone standing there. Staring at Mae.

_Smells like __**somewhere else.**_

It was someone who had _not _been there at all, the entire time. But were definitely there right then.  
And, uh...everyone else was..._not _there?

Some..._person? _Not a shadow like the others. They turned around from where the shadows had been and looked at Mae. Definitely a person. Shaggy hair. Hollow eyes. Eh. Mae couldn't even make _out _their eyes. No expression. Empty.

Red scarf or something? Armor? They were wearing, like..._armor _plates, and armor gloves. Groves? Leaves? Whatever they were called..._woo, _Mae was really feelin' this shit _kick._

Whoa, whoa, wait. They were blue. The person. In front of 'em. Fucking _blue_?  
A blue person. What. The shit. Yea. No. Mae was seeing things, obviously.  
Mae tried rubbin' their eyes...but the person was still blue.

_GAUNTLETS. _That was it. yea, not greaves. Gauntlets. Armored gloves.  
Mae remembered the word for it. Nice. Cool.  
SHIT this was _some _caffeine-induced _something, _all right.

The blue person was just standing there. No words, no _nothing._

Also? They were...holding an _axe?!_

Holy shit, whoa! Wow! Nice! Bad-ass! NOW you have Mae's attention!

There was a handle in their hand, at the side. That handle was for a fucking _beautiful _purple axe, the blade sitting on the ground.

"Nn-...Nice axe," Mae squeaked, paralyzed on the spot.

The figure took two steps forward, their axe grinding against the rubble-ridden tarmac, purple sparks flinging from the contact.

Mae flinched, their hands instinctively tightening around the nail-stuck baseball bat in their...-

Oh, _dude, _what? Since when did Mae have a _bat_? Rad. It was just like the other dreams they'd been having lately, only with 100% more NAILS. Bats were just better with nails in 'em. In Mae's nightmares, they were always breaking THINGS, never had anyone to FIGHT. Wherever this fever dream was going, Mae was _on board _for some action!

BOOST on the JUICE, all right.

But. Somehow, without moving their _mouth_, without _speaking_ actual words...the blue-skinned person told Mae to not fight. To give up. Walk away. Go home.

Mae was utterly swayed.

With an expression cold as ice, the figure before Mae dramatically thrust their index finger directly forward. Mae felt like their _very soul _had been...called out? Cast away. Pushed off.

And then suddenly, was as if Mae was _pulled _from this bizarre person, this strange nether, ripped away. Displanted, whisked and jerked through nothing, and set back on their feet nowhere else, back where they _had _been. Mae found themselves standing in the shambles of the pizzeria, dizzy and nauseous.

And Mae got to experience that _overwhelming _sensation of stench arriving all over again.

_Smells like hell-spawn diarrhea..._

And there, right in front of them, where that blue-skinned weirdo had been standing...was Susie. Pointing her fat finger out at Mae.

"See? She's bein' fucking _weird, _man. What's _wrong _with her?"

"_They_," Gregg corrected, grunting as he tinkered with the fourth and final robot, dropping its arm on the floor beside him.

"_Tss._" Susie's head tilted impatiently. She glared at the kid, frowning critically, and asked him, "Hey, Lancer. That chick over there?" She pointed at Mae again. "She look like _one _person to you? Or, like..._more _than one person?"

"As many people as they _wanna _be," the kid replied with an honest shrug.

"_Urgh._" Susie slapped herself in the face, then growled at Gregg. "Look. _GREGGO. _Your _friend _is losin' it over here."

"..._urghhh_..?" Mae attempted to speak. Not so much with the success.

"Mae just spaces out sometimes. Keep an eye on 'em for me while I take care of this."

"The _hell, _man?" Susie groaned._ "_I asked _her _to keep an eye on _the kid. _I'm not a _babysitter. _"

"Uh..." Steve tapped ashes off of his cigarette and gestured the orange-tipped stick at the kid with a snarky look.

"Fuck you, that's not-..." Susie huffed, pushing bangs out of her eyes. "Look, I _did _what you wanted, where's my cash? I still gotta get _this _guy back home before his dad freaks out..."

"Whaaaa?" the kid belly-ached. "I thought I was staying at _your _place tonight..."

"_Rrgh, _Lancer, just...-" Susie nudged him away with a weirdly gentle push of her knee. "Ssh," she hushed.

"Ssh-shing," Lancer whispered, holding his hand over his mouth.

"Scriggins," Susie snapped. "Where's my money? I'm outta this creepy place."

"_Nahhh _nah-nah," Steve shooed his finger at Susie. "We ain't _done, _babe."

"_Sss. _We're _gonna _be, you call me that one more time."

"Oh, please, get over yerself," Steve grunted, narrowed his eyes at her. "Look. Need yer help carryin' this shit _outta _here when Gregg's done," Steve reminded, nodding his head to the gradually growing pile of animatronic parts forming at Gregg's feet.

_"Ffffine. _Where's the truck at?" Susie asked, all patience totally gone. "Show me where it is, I'll start loading this shit..."

"..._Mmyeah, _fine," Steve shrugged, grabbing a metal bunny face as Susie handily scooped up two legs in _each fucking _arm like they were logs and she was a damn lumberjack. (more like lumber_jacked_)

"Well," Gregg wheezed, a bit tuckered out. "No kiddie corpses, at least. So. _That's _good..."

_shadows turning to dust_

Mae's brain-burned memory of that image was shattered into a frightened flinch when they noticed they were being..._stared _at. It was the roly-poly one. Just staring. With a big dumb smile on his face. And the sunglasses.

"Enh?" Mae mumbled.

"Gregg said someone's gotta keep an eye on you, but..._they_ aren't." He thumbed Susie and Steve, bickering at each other as they carried robot pieces away. "So."

Huh. Good kid. Not a combination of two words Mae put side by side. Like, ever. But.

"_What'd _she say your name was?" Mae checked.

"_Heheh._" He did a few flashy poses, back to back, nearly falling over on the third one, where he pretended to flex his arms. Without flexing them. He paused, glanced at his feet, readjusted one foot slightly, then tightened his pose back up. "I'M **LANCER**. I'm the bad guy."

Mae burst out a laugh at this. Yea, OK.

"Ah. Well. Thanks, kid. I'm, urh...-" Mae stretched their back, rolled their neck around. Awful sore. "Think I'm feeling better."

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_Winston originates from __**Overwatch**__ (Blizzard).__**  
**__Scriggins originates from __**Night in the Woods**__ (Infinite Fall).  
Susie and Lancer originate from __**deltarune**__ (toby fox).  
Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria originates from __**Five Nights at Freddy's**__ (Scott Cawthorn)._


	8. Episode 8

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)

**Episode 8**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Another morning of work was over and done with. Except not really. It never _was. _Olivia had been given the afternoon to relax, in preparation of the big evening ahead. Instead of relaxing, of course, she was being tugged at by the all-too-familiar strings of stress. But the source of the stress this time was about the last place Liv expected to get it from.

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( So now we've gotta pull something out of our asses before something ELSE happens! )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Fucking A. )

Sombra was at a loss. She was bewildered. What Oracle was telling her sounded kind of insane. But she'd watched the video feed – she'd seen how that press conference had ended, and with what intel she'd dug up on the matter, the timing was _not _coincidental. A man of high profile had been murdered, live on TV, and it had been made to look like a heart attack.

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( I swear we didn't do it. )  
( Why WOULD we? )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Hey, chill out, I believe you. )  
( But )  
( damn. )  
( This is fucking serious, kid. )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( You think I don't KNOW THAT? )

On the one hand? Olivia liked the kid. Oracle was a handy member of her crew, for sure, if a little naive. On the other hand? She could be a real damn handful...

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( What if we get CAUGHT? )  
( I can't deal with that! )

Oracle (real name: Futaba Sakura) was a hacker paving a similar path in her teenage youth as Sombra had. She was a member of the infamous 'terrorist' group 'The Phantom Thieves of Hearts.' Frankly? Olivia thought something shorter and simpler was more effective. Maybe that was why they usually went by 'Phantom Thieves.'

Who were the Phantom Thieves, exactly? Well, to be fair, Liv still didn't understand _how _they did what they did – and Oracle wasn't snitching. But somehow they seemed able to coerce criminals into confessing to their crimes, giving themselves up...It was referred to as a 'change of heart.' Liv didn't really understand how this worked, and neither did the press. A deep dive into the matter – and a wasted afternoon later – had turned up nothing substantial, just a _lot _of theories and internet garbage. The group had a fan website (called a 'phansite,' because of the whole, er, 'phantoms' thing, _blegh_) where people even voted on who the Phantom Thieves would attack next. Crazy stuff. Wearing her 'Sombra' shoes, Olivia was used to working from the shadows. Throwing her organization out into the public eye seemed like it would cause so much trouble, they'd never be able to do their jobs properly – hence this whole 'police sniffing around' was a problem.

And yet, somehow, the Phantom Thieves had not only gotten by without being caught, they seemed to be capable of continuing their little capers, with the public's support actually helping mask their identities by proxy of popularity. It was all an enigma, how the Thieves managed to pull this off. But when celebrities were suddenly coming out of their rotten woodwork to confess to their crimes under a unified banner of vigilante justice, it gave Olivia pause.

Liv knew one of her contacts was _also _trying to pin down these 'Phantom Thieves' and what they were up to, and Liv was in such a position where she had to walk a tightrope between pleasing this figurehead and maintaining her grasp on her connection to Oracle – both connections feeding indirectly off the other _through _Liv.

And this was just a pair of threads in the entire damned spiderweb Liv had tangled herself up in.

It was exhausting, frankly. She was fucking _tired._

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( How are we supposed to find out what happened to my mom if we're in JAIL? )  
( I'm not even old enough to DRINK but now I'm caught up in THIS? )  
( People DYING? )**( La_Sombra )**  
( Calm down, kid. )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( HOW )  
( HOW do I calm down when someone is DEAD )_  
_  
In either case, these Phantom Thieves were definitely capable of _something, _perhaps not unlike what Liv's superiors at FutureGadget were up to? Either way, with one of their own – Oracle – looking up to Liv's alter ego Sombra and collaborating with her, Liv figured that some mutual 'back-scratching' was definitely going to prove useful if she had a favor from the Phantom Thieves in her pocket.

And she knew just the person she wanted to see have a 'change of heart.'

But she was getting ahead of herself. All of the current shit on Olivia's plate had to be dealt with first, and that included getting this girl's shit sorted. Oracle wasn't going to be any good to anyone if she was in jail, after all.

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( What if my friends are next? )  
( How the hell do you expect me to calm down? )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( You start by taking a fucking breath and keeping it together. )

Oh, and well...also, like...Olivia didn't really like the idea of the poor kid feeling trapped like this, so...-

**( La_Sombra )**  
( If these people wanted you dead, had the means, knew your identities )  
( why would you still be around? )  
( Whatever they want, I don't think it's killing you. )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( GREAT that makes me feel way better thanks )  
( **~8(** )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Look, I'll help you get outta this, all right? )  
( But you need to slow down. )  
( Remember what I told you? )

There was a pause. Liv could hear annoying dog paws scratching at her door – which at this point had some claw marks on its corner. With a little time on her hands, Liv got up, opened the door, and was immediately attacked at the heels by the excited dog – "_OK, _OK, all right! Maldita Nay_ru_...Fucking pup..." Liv then managed to get herself over to the kitchen (dodging Orisa's scampering all the while), and got the dog's empty water dish filled. Hana was oddly absent, but she'd just been home when Liv had gotten back. Hm. Must've gone out to the gym or something. Despite roughly a year of rooming together, the two of them did _not _communicate very well...And to be blunt, Olivia kind of didn't care. She was exhausted enough as it was to keep up all of the puppeteer work she had to everywhere else, even online within the sanctity of her cramped bedroom. There wasn't any room left for her to bother making an effort with a role as pointless as 'roommate.'

Olivia scratched Orisa behind the ears – and instantly regretted it when her fingertips were suddenly laced with dog hair grease. Giving the dog a final pat on her skull, Olivia rose up, washed her hands, and retrieved her half empty bottle of Stabsinthe from the cupboard. She poured herself a glass, added a splash of water to it, and swallowed a gulp of the green stuff down – it stung at the roof of her mouth, then her throat, and down to her stomach, like a hundred tiny needles prickling at her insides. She savored the sprinkle of pain and the pang of queasiness that hit her empty stomach almost instantaneously. After a moment's hesitation, Sombra took the liquor bottle with her and doggedly wandered back to her bedroom with booze in both hands. She shoved her door shut, leaving a yelping pup all alone again, then sagged into her chair with a groan, picking her conversation back up.

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( Slow down to go fast. )**  
**( All right. )  
( I can try. )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( You can DO. )  
( And I'll help you with this crazy shit, all right? )  
( Your idea is a little out there but with my help? )  
( We'll work something out. )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )**  
( Thank you thank you tytyty )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Yea yea, don't thank me yet. )  
( Favors for favors, you know the drill. )  
( I help bail you outta this, you're gonna owe me. )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( Right! )  
( Obviously! )**  
**( You've got it! )

Sombra stared at their chat for a moment to contemplate what she was getting herself into. She already had so fucking much on her spinning plates. Could she actually handle a task like what Oracle here was asking for? The kind of hack this kid was trying to pull was ambitious...but it was exactly the kind of 'next level' thing that could help The Phantom Thieves regain what public favor this debacle was taking from them.

And again: having a favor from the Phantom Thieves lined up would make Sombra's plans with Los Muertos go _so _much smoother...

**( La_Sombra )**  
( And by 'a favor' I mean one of these )  
( 'changes of hearts.' )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( O_O'' )

Sombra took a sip of her Stabsinthe, her eyes narrowing the longer it took for Oracle to reply.  
Sombra had not stuttered, and she wasn't going to mince words. Oracle at least was owed the cost of Sombra's services up front.

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( W-Wow, umm )  
( I sort of don't have a choice here...huh? )  
( Who did you have in mind? )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Don't worry about that right now. )  
( Stress over that shit later. )  
( I'm just telling you what to expect to pay me back with. )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( No that's fair I get it. )  
( I'm just not sure if I can convince the others... )  
( I mean, have they hurt people? )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( oh honey )  
( they most certainly have. )

Another spiteful sip of her poignantly prickly drink.

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( All right, well )  
( I can't speak for them, I'm not the leader... )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( What you're asking is for them just as much as you. )  
( They want my help saving their asses? )  
( Then this is the price for that. )  
( It's not like there's any other big-time hackers who can help. )  
( Unless you wanna roll the dice with fucking Medjed. )

Ugh. Another hacker crew, more wide-spread and less focused. Apparently they'd hassled the Phantom Thieves a while back, so Sombra was being rhetorical to make a point: she was probably the only hacker they could trust who could pull a job like this off.

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( You're right. )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( If you need time... )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( I mean... )  
( technically? )  
( Yea? )  
( But we can't just wait around on this forever. )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Agreed. )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( I'm going to make a call here and say yes. )  
( We'll do it. )  
( We can figure it out later but if we don't get on THIS )  
( like right right now )  
( we won't be around TO return any favors. )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( That was my thinking. )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( Damnit! )  
( I gotta go. )  
( Is he serious? )  
( Last time he made us WAIT like an hour )  
( until he was ACTUALLY ready to go )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( What? )

**( Oracle-Alibaba )  
**( nvmd )**  
**( emergency meeting. )  
( gtg )  
( will send you deets later )  
( tyty )  
( ttyl )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( I'll keep an eye out. )  
( Later, kid. )

Slurping up another sip of her drink, Liv rubbed at her eyes, leaning back in her chair to give her poor brain a rest for a few moments as her alcohol seeped its way through her veins.

Oracle seemed to have gotten herself deep into some crazy bullshit of her own across the ocean. Sombra wasn't sure if lending her a hand with the kid's ambitious plan was smart, but the Olivia beneath the mask knew it was the right thing to do – not just for the sake of her plans in Arcadia, but just...for Oracle's sake. Futaba's sake, rather.

Sombra hated to admit it, but Olivia had developed an almost maternal soft spot for the kid.  
And that was about the last thing she needed. The only way she'd been able to justify helping the kid out was on the basis of just how fucking useful it would be to have access to what the Phantom Thieves could do.

So. She had added yet another slap-dash, overly ambitious operation to her task list. Again.

Ugh. Fucking mess. All of this shit going on...

Sooner or later, something was going to give.  
Liv just wanted to be on the right side of it when it did.  
The side where she wasn't going to get crushed by the debris.

Liv decided to pop into the Los Muertos chat to see if there was any buzz. They'd recently gotten hacked by some mystery dude, which had put the group into a bit of a panic. It had been an entire thing, but Liv felt things had gotten sorted out well enough. It was time to keep pressing on the attack.

[ User ( **La_Sombra **) has entered the ( **Los_Muertos** ) chat room. ]

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( Yo yo. What's cookin'? )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Hey. )  
( You the only one here? )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( You just missed Oracle. But otherwise, yea. )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( Was on DM with her, actually. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( I'm assuming she was freaking out with you, too, huh? )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( Pretty much. )  
( Don't blame her. Sounds like some insane shit. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( The media's really on their asses now, huh? )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( She swears they didn't do it. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( I know, I believe her, but )  
( I know what it's like to be torn apart by the public like that. )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( Uh )  
( DO you tho? )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( OK, well, )  
( not ME technically? )  
( But you know what I mean. )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( Either way, sounds like no one's caught them yet. )**  
**( Oracle said they were going to be OK. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( Yea, I think they will be. )  
( They got THIS far. )**  
**( I managed to help calm Oracle down a bit, at least. )

Marina was good like that, had to admit.

**( La_Sombra )  
**( Thanks. )  
( I'm gonna do what I can to help her out. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( Isn't that nice of you? ;P )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Eh. )  
( More like doing what needs to get done. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( Where'd she disappear to, anyway? )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Sounded like she had to go run off with her boyfriend again... )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( Yea I don't )  
( think he's her boyfriend tbh )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Really? Way she talks about him... )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( Well, sure, but )  
( It reminds me of more like...a big brother. )  
( Don't you think? )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Mm. )  
( Actually... )  
( Yea, I can see that. )  
( Would make sense of a LOT of things she's said, come to think. )  
( Anyway. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( Anyway! )

There was a pause in the conversation. Liv dipped back over into her mixing software and tinkered a bit with a voice clip until it met her satisfaction, then hopped back into the chat.

**( La_Sombra )**  
( When are you getting back? )  
( As in, actually back? )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( Not too long now! )  
( We're already in town. )  
( I just won't have a chance to slip away for a few days. )  
( Laying low has been good for us. )  
( But we've gotta make some public appearances soon. )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( She clean yet? )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( As far as I can tell, yes. )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Paparazzi still hounding your asses? )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( I mean )  
( When are they not? )  
( But they haven't had many opportunities to pester us this month. )  
( Our secret show went over well, no one gave us any trouble. )  
( Except Pearl's ex, ofc )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( That guy is like )  
( the stupidest dickhead I've ever met. )  
( How the hell did your girl ever date him in this )  
( or ANY dimension? )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( It's been years since they dated. )  
( I love Pearlie to death but )  
( she can be a silly dickhead herself? )  
( So like yea )  
( We all make bad choices, especially when we're teens. )  
( I can only imagine what she was like before I came around. )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( You've been a good influence. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( It happens both ways! )  
( You should've seen me before I was with her. )  
( I was a hot mess. )  
( Now we help cover each other's weaknesses. )

Tapping at the side of her drinking glass, Olivia finished off her Stabsinthe, breathing out a ragged sigh.

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Sometimes that's the best you can hope for I guess. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( BTW All of this down time has given me a chance to tidy up those scripts you asked me about. )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Yea? )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( Found some spotty parts here and there, fixed them up for you. )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( thanks. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( Honestly, though, I think there are still some flaws in the programming. What you grabbed wasn't a complete build, was it? )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( Nope. Had to fill in a few blanks. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )  
**( I feel like its performance isn't as stable as it needs to be. )

**( La_Sombra )  
**( Try telling that to my superiors... )  
( Been so fucking busy I'm starting to worry I bit off more than I can chew. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( Well, that's what the rest of us are here for, right? ;D )  
( This is your show, we're just following your lead. )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Not sure that's the brightest move, but )  
( Well, yea. )  
( You think this plan will work? )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**

( Is my response going to change anything you intend to do? )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Not really. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( Then does it matter what I think? )  
( Aren't you confident in your own scheme, here, girl? )  
( Besides, I AM still helping you, either way... )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Good point. )  
( No, I'm confident in it, I just )  
( I don't know. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( You're stressed. )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( HA )  
( No shit. )

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( lol, I mean, like )  
( You want to hop on DM? )  
( Maybe tell me what's up? )

[ **La_Sombra** is typing. . . ]

That little prompt lingered. Then vanished. Then appeared again. Then disappeared. Hm.  
She'd give Olivia a bit of time. She knew it was difficult for that woman when it came to this kind of thing. So, she went back to her sound mixing. It was just a silly thing for social media, but she figured the fans would get a kick out of it, all the same. Sometimes you had to spend a little time being 'extra' to set yourself apart, right? It's what made Off the Hook what it was – they weren't just a band spitting out albums, they were an _experience._ So she hoped.

_(Author's Note: Most non-English text will be translated between ~'s)__  
_"~Yo yo yo, baby-gurl, baby-gurl~~"

Aaaand Pearl was back from her lunch date with their agent. Pearl was dressed in a grungy mix of tattered jeans and a skull-patterned hoodie with a pink beanie to complete the look. She was beat-boxing a little as she strolled into the trailer. Apparently the meeting had gone well?

"-_uh-__**psst**__-duhduh-__**psst**__-pah-pummm-duhduh-__**psst**__-_"

"~What'd I tell you about beat-boxing in our trailer?~" Marina smarmily posed, stealth-logging-off of her chat with Olivia.

"...Uhhhh...-" Poor girl. Pearl got stumped a little too easily sometimes. But she never quit, and that counted for a lot. "_Mmmm_...-?" Still trying to remember.

Marina locked her laptop, closed it, then swiveled her chair around, giving her girlfriend a taunting smirk with a lifted brow to match.

Pearl's eyes flickered with an innocent, dumb kind of remorse. Heh.

"~I don't..._remember_?~" Pearl confessed, her voice squeaking adorably as her face scrunched up.

"~Just playin' with you, babe,~" Marina teased, hopping up from her seat with a squinting grin. "~I _didn't _tell you anything about beat-boxing in our trailer.~"

"~You ho,~" Pearl grunted jokingly, as she slipped her hoodie off. She snapped her eyes shut and stuck out her tongue, whipping her hoodie off to the floor. "~Shoulda known. Ain't no way you can put this free spirit in a _cage.~_" Pearl immediately began beat-boxing again, slapping her hands on her own arms with the beat she was creating.

"Oooookay, ~enough of that,~" Marina cooed with a gentle sigh, straightening the collar on Pearl's wrinkled button-up. Pearl's hands latched themselves onto Marina's hips, while Marina's hands went about removing Pearl's beanie hat, setting it aside on a coat rack hook before sifting at Pearl's bleached bangs, sweeping them to one side. Her arms rested themselves across Pearl's chunky shoulders, fingers connecting over Pearl's back.

The two stood, basking in the warmth of each other for a quiet moment. Staying as busy as they _had _been that year had given moments alone like this – rare as they were becoming – a certain something the pair had maybe been needing.

"~How'd lunch go?~" Marina wondered softly.

"_Ech! Nope! Nah! ~_None o' _that _in here.~" Pearl's face had contorted suddenly and unpleasantly.

"Oh," Marina chuckled softly. "~Right. All casual. No work talk.~"

"~All casual.~"

"Mm-hm." Marina's eyes narrowed as her smirk widened into a smile.

Pearl's expression sparked and simmered in turn, their heads slowly gravitating together until they kissed gently.

"~But, uh-...Like...-~" Swallowing as she pulled out of the kiss, Pearl's mouth twisted in an amusing way. She nodded slightly and bobbed up one shoulder. "~Yea, went, um, good? Went good.~"

"~We're still employed then,~" Marina facetiously joked, moving to the kitchenette of their trailer. Pearl nodded with a sideways grin and a light laugh, leaning herself against the side of a countertop.

"~Still employed,~" Pearl confirmed, crossing her thin arms around her chest.

"~Oh, that's a relief,~" said Marina playfully. "~I was, ya know-...I was _deathly _afraid we'd be kickin' it on the streets this time next week.~"

"~We still _could, _if ya want,~" said Pearl, lowering her eyelids with a distant, contemplative look that...didn't actually mean anything.

"~...Nope,~" Marina declined, turning on their electric kettle. She watched as Pearl lifted herself off of the counter and approached. Marina reminded, "~You've made me _accustomed _to a life of luxury, Ms. Houzuki.~"

"~Livin' that thug life,~" Pearl sighed, leaning herself against Marina's back, practically melting into her. "~What we gotta do _tomorrow_?~"

"~More like, 'what we gotta do _tonight_?'~" Marina primly reminded, scooping up mugs from their mini dishwasher.

"Fffffuuuuuuhhhhkkkkkk," Pearl slowly groaned, muffled into the back of Marina's jacket. "Bayyyyybbbbbb..." Pearl rummaged her lanky arms around Marina's waist, gripping at Marina's stomach and fiddling with the belly button piercing there.

Grabbing tea bags from the nearby cupboard and dropping them into the mugs, Marina leaned back slightly, absorbing her love's exhausted affection.

"~Is_ that _what you're wearing to the interview tonight?~" she posed to Pearl, watching the kettle begin to bubble up. "~'Cause that ain't gonna cut it. By the way.~"

"~_What_ interview?~" Pearl whimpered. "~_I _ain't ready for no fuckin'-..._Awww _shittttt, that's _tonight?~_"

"Mmmmm _hm_," Marina primly hummed, a little disappointed but not surprised.

"~But-...~" Pearl nuzzled her cheek against Marina's back. "~I thought we had, like, that..._charity _thing.~"

"~We _do. _The interview's gonna be _at _that 'charity thing.'~"

"_rrrfffgrrrglggglglggg..._"

"~Aww, I know, baby,~" Marina cooed, half-jokingly, rubbing her thumbs against Pearl's wrists. "~Hang in there for me, OK?~"

"~If that _one guy _shows up...-~" Pearl growled.

They were having to raise their voices a bit over the kettle's rumbling.

"~I mean, a _lot _of people will be there,~" Marina hesitantly reminded, suddenly worrying about how Pearl might react if the wrong person said the wrong thing. There was that _one _man who'd...caused a whole situation earlier. 'Professional,' her ass. As far as Marina was concerned, she wanted nothing to do with the Augmented Eye. Period. And yet, she knew circumstances at this event might force her to deal with it... "~He probably _is _going to show up. We'll just have to deal with it.~"

"~Oh, I'll _deal. _I will _punch him_,~" Pearl groaned, her head slightly sagging down Marina's shoulder-blade. "~Swear to Nayru, Mar-Mar. I will fucking _punch. Him. _In the mother-fucking dick. Tear his gross limp-dick _right _off. Wrap his shriveled balls into a Dindamned maki roll, shove it _so far _down his throat he shits my fist. Oh my _Farore, _girl, **so hard **will I exact my vengeance. _My vengeance_, babe.~"

"~Erh-..._W-__**wow.**_ Pearlie. You, uh...-~" Marina laughed sheepishly. Tucking hair behind one ear, she mumbled, half-amused, half-nervous, "~You just used..._multiple_ goddesses' names in vain...~"

"~Ain't playing_. _Bet those Big Ladies up there agree with me. _Amirite?!~_" Pearl called up toward the ceiling. Marina couldn't help but giggle, conflicted as she was. "~So it _ain't _in vain, then. _They _get it. Holy Hylian _power from above _would be infused into these glorious fists.~" She kissed her own knuckle. "~I'll hit him. He's an asshole. I _hate him.~_"

She had good reason to. Marina didn't blame her one bit. Still, though...-

Oh, no, Pearl...began rapping. It wasn't her..._best _work...

"~Fingers in-a fist just to punch his ugly dick,  
Tear it off, tear it off,  
Get it deep-fried, dick-died, he cries at high tide,  
But it's 'cuz _he _lied, now his inside's _out_side  
when I tear it off, tear it off  
Shove it down his throat, out his ass  
Now his outside's _in_side, so fast  
when I tear it off, tear if off~"

Marina clicked off the kettle pre-maturely as Pearl, now with her back turned, still leaning into Marina, went into more beat-boxing, gesturing her hands around on rhythm. Marina eased her love off with her hip as she went to pour their tea.

"_-__**bunh**__-bunhta__**tss**__-rrahpom-pah-pah-__**tss**__-_"

Letting the weird combination of off-the-cuff beat-boxing and tea steam fill her senses, Marina took a deep breath, her concerns filling up like the hot tea she'd just poured.

"~I get it, baby,~" Marina chuckled warily, using her gentle arms to calm Pearlie down. "~But...just-...I'm gonna need you to stay calm, no matter what happens. 'Kay? We're still recovering from your...little...-~"

..._slight overdose on Red Ice._

Seeing her Pearlie in the hospital had been somewhat traumatizing for Marina. To top it off, this had been followed by tabloids picking up the story and running with it faster than than The Blue Blur's acting career crashed and burned."~I'm _good, _Marina,~" Pearl winced in Inklish, shrugging off Marina's delicate contact as she pressed their chests together into a half-hug. "~I'm clean, we're set, we _all good._ Stop...worryin' about that shit, that was a one time-...That was a dumb-ass thing, not touchin' that shit no more. Don't _even _worry.~"

Pearl tilted her chin down against her chest, staring up at Marina with a lost-puppy gaze. Marina felt her chest quiver at the sight, but she had to keep her babe on track with this.

"~I _know _you're not gonna touch it,~" Marina said delicately, "~because we gonna have _some problems _if you even...-~"  
"-maybe shouldn't just _walk up _like this."

Wait, huh? Voices, coming from just outside. Marina fell quiet, and when Pearl grunted out, "The _fuck_?" Marina shushed her. The pair listened for a second.

"You worry too much. It's fine." Gentle but sharp woman's voice. Smooth voice. "What harm could it do?"

"...Like you'd listen to me." The other one, gruff and ragged but...also smooth somehow?

"What does _that _mean?"

"Nothing, nothing. You say it's fine? It's fine, Red. Go on. Get this over with..."

Pearl and Marina gawked at each other, both perplexed at who the hell could be coming to their trailer in the middle of the day, and why no one nearby had, like...stopped them?

The door knocked twice.

Pearl and Marina stood, paralyzed, the electric kettle beginning to bubble up.

"...Hello?" called the gentler of the two voices.

Marina and Pearl smiled stupidly at each other, like two kids playing hide and seek, ready to burst out laughing.

A louder, heavier knock rattled them right out of this state. Not the same person, must've been the rougher person.

Marina snort-laughed quietly, nudging Pearl to go open the door. Pearl frowned, tugged at her bottom eyelid and jammed out her tongue. Marina wrinkled her nose and lowered her eyebrows. Pearl flicked a dismissive wrist and went for the door.

"Hello?" called the woman again. "I...could've sworn I saw-_...Oh."_

Pearl opened the door. Marina was feeling oddly shy about poking her head out from the kitchenette to see who it was.

"Yo," greeted Pearl with some irritation. A silent beat. "Uh...The fuck're _you_?"

"_Pearl_," Marina hissed, coated with a thick layer of courtesy as she whisked herself round. "_Haa, _hey, hi, y-..." _Oh wow! What? No way. _"Rr-..._Red? _Crash Red? What're..._you _doing here?"

Standing at the stoop of their trailer stood _Crash Red, _in the flesh, no fooling! The singing sensation from Cloudbank! One of Marina's favorite musicians. Pearl, well, maybe not so much, but...-

She was a dainty-looking woman with fittingly crimson hair that curled against her shoulders. Long legged, slender in figure, with a voice that melted the eardrums, Red had bright blue eyes that were soft and approachable but could shift their glaze into a sharpened laser at a moment's notice. Almost always garbed in elaborate clothing of black and gold with a fashion sense that felt a century old, Red was somehow able to actually pull off her old-timey style even in the modern scene.

"Good...afternoon, ladies," said Red with an amused smile. Her eyebrows conveyed her slight confusion, and in that instant Marina felt weak in the knees, childish and immature in the light of a _true _professional. "Your agent...-" Red maneuvered an elegant, fair-skinned arm back behind her. "-...they gave us the go-ahead to try and...touch base. About the upcoming concert? And the event tonight."

Pearl skeptically pointed out with a grumble, "Ain't that...like, _exactly _the kinda shit we _have _agents _for_? Furreal?"

Marina felt her teeth grind together, her hands squeezing against Pearl's shoulders.

A slightly bewildered pause, then Red burst into a laugh.

"She's...not _wrong_," grunted Red's companion, some stubble-chinned...man. Never had seen him before.

"_Ahhh, _that's what I like about you two," sighed Red through the edge of her laugh. "You just get right to the point, no funny-business."

"_Ha, _yea, that's us," Marina agreed, her heart racing. She was _treating them like peers?_

"No bullshit," Pearl followed up, tilting her chin up slightly. "Off the Hook guarantee." To this, Red grinned.

An odd tension tightened as Red's eyes scanned the interior of their-  
_OH FUCK _the place was a mess, it was terrible, no-no-no they couldn't-

"Do you mind if we...come in?" Red prodded, already shifting one of her tall-heeled boots forward.

Pearl shrugged, stepping back to make way, and causing Marina to stumbled over her own feet in the process. She bumped into the counter-top behind her, spilling a bit of their tea but thankfully not tipping the mugs over.

"W-We were, like...'boutta have a tea break," Marina hastily spat, snatching a paper towel to dry the small spill she'd made. "If you want any, I could-...Urh...-?"

"Thanks, but we don't want to intrude," said Red, intent on surveying the interior of their trailer.

Red and her well-toned, plain-faced companion entered and took their seat at the small bed-like...thing...at the trailer's end. The, uh...place where Marina and Pearl slept when on tour. And _did...other...thingssss._ Oh Nayru. Din. Farore. Holy Hylian Trinity, Marina would _herself _invoke all of the goddesses' graces at how terrible and **oh-no** this was. Fucking CRASH RED was sitting in the spot where Marina and her gurl DID TH-

"Wowww," Red slowly murmured, gazing upon their fashionably furnished yet unkempt trailer. "I almost forgot what these were like...Very quaint."

"Well, don't..._patronize_ 'em," the man mumbled.

"Wh-? _No. _I meant...-" Red gave the man a playful frown and an elbow jab, and he took it in stride.

"We get hotels, too," Marina spat, not even...knowing why she was saying this. "Sometimes. When we feel like it. We just, um, it _is _quaint, right? Though? Isn't it?" She snickered weirdly, faint in the head, as she brushed the back of her wrist against Pearl's arm.

"Kinda nice havin' your own lil' home 'way from home," said Pearl simply. "No neighbors, none o' _that _hassle..."

"_Ha, _yes." Red nodded, her face flickering with some...sort of newfound nugget of wisdom. "A very good point." Red pressed her hand against the man's chest, giving him a little shove. Oh, kind of...a bit spicy, that body language. "No _hassle, _no _neighbors_," Red murmured with implicated contemplation in the man's ear. "Mm?"

_whhhaaaAAAATttt who IS this guy is he her boytoy or WHAT?_

"Yea, yea," he grunted, shrugging off her gesture and obviously feeling uncomfortable with the two girls in front of him catching sight of this. "I'll, _eh-..._I'll look into it, run it by the manager."

"Please do, Sir," said Red cheekily, brushing bright crimson hair strands behind her ears. "Oh, _my,_" she breathed out, pointing up at a frame hanging on the wall. "Is that an honest-to-goodness _Bendy _painting?" she narrowed her eyes at the old, rustic illustration framed in a corner of the room.

"Oh, yea," said Pearl casually, she and Marina standing in the middle of the cramped space. "Hand-me-down from my Gramps, he was all into that old-timey cartoon shit. Helped, like, startup that junk, I guess."

"It's an original," Marina pointed out, finding herself excited over a detail that had never excited her much before this moment where she could brag about it. "Signed by Joey Drew himself."

"Amazing," said Red. "My, um-..." She lost herself for a moment. Blinking and coming to, she smiled politely at the pair before her. "I was quite the fan as a little girl. Suffice it to say, I've seen every Bendy cartoon."

"Unfortunately," her grizzly-toned companion remarked.

"So has _he_," Red chuckled, sliding a sly thumb toward the man.

"Gave me _nightmares_..." The man rubbed his thick fingers across his forehead as a worn look fell over him.

"Yo, yo, _wait _up. _How _old're you?" Pearl bluntly asked, shoving her hands into her jean pockets.

_Twenty-eight. Birthday was a few weeks back._

"Oh, I just turned twenty-eight not long ago," Red replied.

"'N you watched _that _old-ass shit?" Pearl scoffed.

"It's never too late to appreciate antiques," Marina blurted, wanting to kick herself in the teeth every time said teeth attempted to form literally any syllable. And also kick _Pearlie's _beautiful face in every time _she _attempted to say anything.

"You can learn a lot by looking back at the past," Red mused dreamily, surveying the other odds and ends in their squashed living space.

"But we didn't come here for that," her...bodddddyguard? Reminded her? _Was _he her bodyguard? Sure looked built for it.

"_Ah, _right, yes," Red sighed out, refocusing herself with a self-steadying nod. "About the charity ball tonight, I wanted to come ask you in person...-" She bit her lip with a sort of...faux-nervousness that Marina could tell was...manufactured.

"Ask what?" Pearl oh-so-eloquently pondered.

"We're still going," Marina assured, as if...she had...reason to? _Arghhhhhh_

"Of course," said Red, her coated eyelashes fluttering thoughtfully. "I was just wondering if you'd be interested in opening the event with a performance?"

_whaaaatttt she wants US to perform at HER private event say WUTTTT?_

"Yes!" Marina blurted. "Totally! Definitely."

"Huh?" Pearl grunted, cocking her head. "_Uhhh, _ain't that _kinda _short notice?"

"I know, I know, it's _fine _if you can't manage it, but you could sing _anything_, really," Red sweetened, "Our opening act canceled on us, and I figured-..." Her eyes rolled around thoughtfully. "_Well, _with the Battle of the Bands coming up, this could do a little double-duty solidifying our ties in the public eye. Not to _mention, _it would be quite the surprise for my guests. I think the work you two do is unique, and my followers could stand to be...exposed to something post-modern. Broaden their horizons, so to speak." She was gently sliding her thumb against her chin with a wry little smirk about her.

"Nasty Majesty," Marina offered. Their newest song, already finding its way high on some charts – and also fresh in her and Pearl's minds, so a sort of impromptu performance would be simple enough.

"What?" Pearl winced quietly. The song _was, _admittedly, more intense for Pearl than Marina.

"_Oh, _that would certainly fit the bill," Red said with a pleasant nod. "_Such _a unique song..."

"_Totally_," agreed Marina. Yep. Definitely had gotten her arm twisted into that, right?

"You're sure?" Red checked. "I don't want to impose anything, _you _know, too inconvenient, or...-"

"Y-Yea, I mean-" Pearl began – _nope don't GIVE me that lazy attitude baby NOT right now._  
"You can count on us," Marina spat, overriding any possible quashing Pearl might toss out.

_I love you, Pearlie, I do, but __**you don't fucking say 'no' to **__**Crash Red!**_

"Simple enough," grunted the man at Red's side.

"Yes! Lovely," said Red, seemingly surprised, her long gloved hands folding together in her lap. With a nod toward her 'bodyguard(?)' she took a deep, pleasant breath. "Um...What else...-?" She tapped the tip of her finger against her lips, sifting out her thoughts. Marina admired the _posturing _of this gorgeous woman, the way her every _motion _felt framed for a photo.

With her girlfriend's back slightly pressed against Marina's chest, Marina could sense a slight unsteadiness to Pearl's breathing. _Oof, _she was a little pissed, huh? She'd get over it. This was exactly the kind of opportunity they needed to make a quick recovery of..._last _month's fun little incidents...

"There will be some press to appease," Red noted. "Given the circumstances surrounding the event, you _might _get asked some...political questions."

Pearl was quick to jab out, "Ain't nothin' political 'bout blowin' people up."

Red's eyes popped open wide, as did Marina's. Red's 'associate' shot Pearl a suspicious glance.

The whole point of this charity gala was to raise money for the victims of the bombings going on throughout Arcadia as of late.

Pearl shrugged defensively. "Just _sayin'. _Don't fuckin' _kill _people. Ain't politics, just...how shit _should_ be, right?"

Marina smiled as delicately as she could, her jaws slicing against each other nervously.

Red, however, had her lips fold in on one another thoughtfully as she nodded in agreement with a laugh through her nose. Leaning over toward her 'bodyguardddd?' she gave him a smirk, bobbing her head slightly at Pearl.

Red cited to him, "I think Miss Houzuki makes a strong argument, don't you?"

The man just chuckled, shaking his head slightly, but ultimately nodded.

Pearl swapped looks with Marina, who furrowed her brows at Pearl, and Pearl just low-key shrugged in defense yet again.

"So you can deal with some interviews," Red concluded with a smirk.

"Of course," Marina insisted before Pearl could say anything.

Red specified, "My event's been getting a lot of promotion from The Augmented Eye. I understand you have...some bad history with them? But it's _imperative _that they get to interview all of the performers tonight."

Marina's gut lurched, her chest seized up. Of course this was the case. Urgh.

"Uhh..." Pearl was trying to get Marina's gaze, but Marina wasn't having it.

She _knew _what Pearl was hung up on. And she didn't care.

You didn't say 'no' to Crash Red.

"Won't be a problem," Marina reiterated, rubbing her hand briskly against Pearl's shoulder.

"Excellent," said Red, her thumbs sliding together in her lap as she nodded contentedly. "I _really _appreciate it. There was something else..._Hm._" She turned to her 'partnerrrr?' quizzically, and he scratched his stubbled chin with contemplation.

Marina obediently reminded, "The Battle of the Bands?"

"_Ahh, _of course," said Red, her eyes twinkling as they connected with Marina's gaze. _Damn, _those blue babies were even prettier in person than Marina would've thought. That _had _to be contacts, or _something, _no way that shade of blue was natural... "I just wanted to check to make sure everything looked OK. I believe our agents swapped notes, so to speak. Did...everything look in order?"

"Huh?" Pearl was a little lost.

"The Battles of the Bands," Marina repeated. "At Celeste?"

"_Ohhh _yea," Pearl puffed, like it was no thing. "Yea, yea, we all good to go for _that._" She subtly bumped her elbow into Marina. "Had _lotta _time to prep, so...all good." She flashed a quick thumbs up.

"And...-" Red hesitated. "You'll be OK up on stage with the Squid Sisters?"

"_Psssshh!_" Marina hissed for a microsecond longer than she should have. "We do this whole-...I mean, it's all _a front_, we _love _each other, dude."

"They ai'ight," said Pearl simply, offering one of her signature, stout nods.

"The way you've been...ripping into each other lately...-" Red warily cited. "I mean, it...comes across as a bit intense."

"All an act," Marina insisted.

"Show business, baby," Pearl followed up.

"It builds publicity for both of us," Marina explained.

"And, like, _dude_," said Pearl. "'S _BATTLE _of the Bands, rite? Not...-" She wiggled a limp wrist. "-...Get-Along-Tea-Time...Music...Sleepover."

"Right," Marina instantly agreed, despite Pearl's obtuse phrasing. That reminded her...their tea was getting cold...But it'd be stupid to drink it in front of Crash Red.

"Ah, I see," said Red, an adorable smirk forming from her wonderfully crimson lips. She nodded with some tempered excitement, the little curls of her hair bobbing. "Great. It's a relief to hear that, I was...honestly a little worried. It's good to see the 'next generation,' as it were, is able to put aside differences. You would not _believe _the kinds of ridiculous grudges that get held onto."

"We all sharin' the same spaces," assured Pearl. "I ain't gonna shit where I eat, ya know?"

_What do you even MEAN Pearlie whhhhh?_

Red chuckled softly, holding her hand up to her mouth.

_She LIKES it?_

"Common sense," Red breathed out in bemusement to her companion. He shrugged with an odd look of hesitant approval. "See, _this _is exactly why we're doing this," Red quietly said to him. "A change of _perspective_."

"Mm." The guy seemed pretty damn quiet around them, but he had seemed gabby enough outside their trailer a few minutes ago.

"Oh," Red sighed lamentably, looking up at the pair of them. "I _wish _I could get the people from _my _city to think like that. 'Don't shit where you eat'..." She snort-giggled, and it was _the. best. Thing. _She **was **human, after all! "Well." Red leaned herself carefully forward, pushed up, and stood tall, her head nearly bumping their trailer's ceiling. Her ('boytoy/bodyguard/srsly tho wtf?') rose up beside her. "If you _do _end up having any concerns about anything at all, _please _don't be afraid to let us know. Actually-..." She held up an index finger, turned to her (' . who WAS this guy?') and snapped her finger at him.

He looked confused, and Red shot him a _look. _He seemed to 'get it,' and pulled out a business card from his fancy jacket, along with what was probably _the _fanciest pen Marina had ever laid eyes on.

Red grabbed the pen, clicked it with a sharp precision, and scribbled on the back of the card with a certain strength to every minute movement of her wrist. Handing the pen back to her companion, she held out the card to Pearl.

"Erh...-?" Pearl even seemed star-struck.

Marina had to help _guide _Pearlie's hand out to take the card.

"That's my personal line," Red said. "I'm serious – if you need _anything, _and my agent isn't responding? Do _not _hesitate to touch base with me. I want to make sure everything we're working on this month is a pleasant experience for both of you."

"R-Right," Pearl squeaked, dumbly holding the card in her hand. "...Yea, cool." _Awwww even SHE'S flustered! Took you long enough baby gurl._

Marina blabbered out, "Thanks! And _we _want to make sure we bring our A Game, as well."

"I'm sure you will," said Red warmly, taking a couple steps toward the trailer's entrance. "You two-..." She took in a deep, thoughtful breath. "Doing what you do? Expressing your _love, _your _passion, _so openly? So freely? _Working _that into your art? _Weaving _your souls together through song, laying everything to bear? It's a beautiful thing. It's _inspiring._" She glanced at her (?) with a wry smile. "Don't you think?"

The man tailing her seemed..._not sure what to say __**what the ffffff?**_

He cleared his throat, holding his fist up to his mouth as he gave an _awkward and uncertain sound _of _maybe _approval?

Beaming slyly with her eyes slightly squinted, Red assured the duo before her, "Suffice it to say, I truly enjoy the work your two create together."

Pearl mumbled out a sheepish "...Glad you dig it."

"That is _so sweet_ of you to say," Marina panted. "Thank you!" Her cheeks were on FIRE, yo. _CRASH RED _was fucking _**INSPIRED **_by THEM?! What in the TRINITY?

"We'll see you tonight," said Red, giving the pair the damn finest _wave _of her fingers as he gracefully saw her way out.

"Afternoon," grunted her 'muscle.'

And the door closed. And Marina and Pearl stood in breathless silence for a few seconds, until footsteps fell quiet.

Marina's hands clenched down onto Pearl's chunky shoulders, and she _shook _her love with a giddy glee.

"~Oh my _goddesses _did you _hear her?~_" Marina squealed in a whisper. "~**We **inspire _**her?!~**_"

"~Yea...~" Pearl muttered, flipping the business card around in her hands. "~So, like..._who's _that chick, again?~"

"**Do not even **_**give me that!**_" Marina snarled playfully, bringing their conversation out of Inklish. "Fucking _Crash Red, _babe!"

Pearl paused. Then nodded. Then narrowed her eyes and, with a devilish grin, muttered, "Damn, she fine as _fuck_, though."

"_PEARL,_" Marina hissed, her hands wriggling down Pearl's sides, tickling at her arm pits. "She's not a piece of meat, **stoppit!**"

"She a fuckin' _snack_," Pearl grunted through chuckles as she writhed through Marina's tickling.

"Nooo," Marina squealed through grit teeth, giggling all the while. "I can't listen to this!"

Pearl giggled and squirmed, dropping the card onto the counter-top behind them. Tickling and snickering quickly quieted down, swallowed by cuddling and kissing.

The pair found themselves cuddled up, side by side, on the bed-like thing Red had just sat upon.

_**Auuughhh she SAT HERE-!  
Where we slept?  
Where we f-  
**_"~But naw, like...-~" Pearl broke their quiet. "~Seriously, _what's _her deal?~"

"..." Marina was wide-eyed and aghast. "~You _know _who Crash Red is now. You just _met her._~"

"~_Sure, _but-...I mean...-~" Pearl shrugged, crossing her arms and letting her head flop against Marina's shoulder. "~She's hot stuff n' all that, just don't get why you were _that _eager to go, like, crawlin' up her ass.~"

"~You _have _to agree it is _a nice. _**Ass.~**"

"~..._Damn, _gurl, thought you couldn't listen to that?~"

Marina smacked her palms over her cheeks bashfully.

"~You're a bad influence,~" Marina cooed.

"~I mean, _dang, _you got a thing I needa know about? Where _dis _shit comin' from, though? Need me-a dye _my _hair red or _what?~_"

"~_Ffff, _sorry, I just-...I've looked up to her for _so _long...~"

"~Yea, no foolin'. You'd prolly lick a sidewalk if she asked you to.~"

"~_MAYBE, _I don't _know!~_"

"~Lickin' a sidewalk's 'bout as tasty as agreeing to this _last minute _shit,~" Pearl mumbled. "~_Man, _I ain't in the _mood _for that kinda thing right now...Damn headache...~"

Oh, right. She _was _pissed about that, wasn't she?

"Mm." Marina needed to consider what to say. She got up, going to retrieve their hopefully-warmish tea. "~I just wanted to make sure we gave her the right impression,~" Marina explained, scooping their mugs up carefully.

As Marina handed her a cup of tea, Pearl complained tiredly, "~Didn't even run it _by _me first, Mar. The _fuck_?~"

Marina sighed, running her hand up Pearl's back, playing the short hair on the base of the back of Pearl's neck and scratching slowly at it. She tapped her fingertip against her mug with consideration.

"~I'm-...~" Marina bit a lip as she considered her words. She sat down carefully and took a sip of her drink. "~Sorry, Pearlie, I got...caught up in the moment, and...-~"

"~Thought we didn't _do _that shit,~" Pearl pressed. "~Fitty-fitty _split _on these decisions, gurl, that was what we agreed.~"

"~We did. You're right. I didn't mean to...-~"

Pearl huffed an unpleasant sigh into her mug as she took a gulp of tea down.

Marina didn't like that attitude. She adjusted course a little.

"~We have _not _had a good month,~" she pointed out. "~And, like, I'm _sorry, _Hime, but...that's on _you.~_"

"..."  
Yea, no answer to _that _one, huh?  
Damn, Marina was even pulling out the _actual _first-name, maybe she was being a little rough?  
But no, she was _right _on this.

Marina went on, "~So, I'm not _meaning _to force things on you? But...we _need _to bounce back. And we aren't going to do that by being _lazy. _Red is _connected, _babe. We get on her good side? Good things're gonna come out way."

Pearl sucked in a deep breath, rotated her head so her chin rested against Marina's breast, and exhaled a raspy groan.

"~I _know,~_" she acknowledged, setting her tea mug down on the table nearby. "Fuck..." She wormed an arm around Marina's waist, hooked her fingers into Marina's hip and nudged Marina's shirt up, just a little. "~Yer right, babe. I gotchu. No whinin', rest o' the night. Swear.~" She dropped a kiss like the most on-point beat right on Marina's bare stomach.

Marina was stricken with an odd mixture of guilt and satisfaction rolled into one.

She leaned her head against the top of Pearl's platinum-blonde skull, administered a kiss, and let her nose linger on Pearl's scent for a few quiet seconds.

"Thanks, shortie," she mumbled teasingly, smiling into her mug as she took another drink.

"_Man, _ain't no-..._grrffmmhnn..._-" Pearl trailed off into an adorable af grumble.

"Princess needa _nap_?" Marina taunted, easing herself up from the bed and carefully letting Pearl curl up. Girl still had her boots on.

"_Hmm_," Pearl hummed drowsily – grumpily.

They'd been pushing themselves a lot during this tour. At least the worst of it was over. Arcadia was the end-point, the destination. Once the Battle of the Bands was over, they'd get on back to Inkopolis, simmer down, take some time off.

As Marina set her tea mug beside her laptop, she reflected on how there were things Marina had to take care of while they were in Arcadia. On _top _of all of the other crap.

Peeling off Pearl's boots – and nearly choking on her Princess' weirdly assuaging foot odor – Marina arranged a pillow to rest Pearl's silly skull on. Gave her a kiss on the forehead, and left her to her nap. They could spare a _little _time before they had to get prepped for the long night ahead.

And Marina remembered she'd left someone on hold.

Grabbing her laptop, she trudged over to the kitchenette, seating herself at the tiny table for two on the trailer's front end. She scooped Red's business card on the way there, and made sure to add the number to her contacts before opening her laptop and logging back into her chat room.

[ Logged in to **Los_Muertos **]

She found it easy to catch up, because Olivia had only added one more line to the chat.

**( DJ_Hyperfresh )**  
( lol, I mean, like )  
( You want to hop on DM? )  
( Maybe tell me what's up? )

**( La_Sombra )**  
( Nah, I'm good. )

A bit deflated, Marina perked back up when she realized she had a DM...from Olivia. Marina opened up the private conversation, only to find a small essay waiting for her.

( **La_Sombra** )  
( My friend, )  
( the ONE person in this shithole town I MIGHT maybe call that? )  
( She totally bailed on me. )  
( Made me look like an asshole. )  
( Maybe I'm BEING one. You know? )  
( She had a good point. That I'm a double-faced piece of shit. )  
( Do I really hang out with her see her? )  
( Or just cause it's convenient? )  
( Because I always have other birds to kill with the same stone. )  
( And it's pissing me off because for SO LONG )  
( that shit never BOTHERED me. )  
( I don't even know why it does here. )  
( And I know it shouldn't. )  
( I think I'm losing my edge. )  
( Going soft, that sort of thing. )  
( And I HATE IT. )  
( I'm fucking tired, dude. )  
( So. Fucking. Tired. )  
( All the time now. )  
( _-deleted comment- _)  
( I'm used to living ONE life. Sombra. )  
( You know? That was it. That was me. )  
( Even when I moved out here? It was just...ME. )  
( Left Sombra to the sidelines for a minute. )  
( But then I realized I couldn't leave her behind )  
( that part of me )  
( Now I've got to fucking balance IRL with that. )  
( Both. Everyday. All the time. )  
( Guess it's harder than I thought it'd be. )  
( How the fuck do YOU do it? )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( LOL )  
( Very carefully! ^_^; )  
( But no, really, I just... )  
( I mean, you seem to have more going on than I do, tbh )  
( Yea, my day life is busy. )  
( But I'm just focused on one person, otherwise. )  
( Well, two, if I count myself. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Which you should. )  
( Fuckin nayru, do NOT make my mistake )  
( count yourself in there. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( Haha. Will do, Chief. )  
( Anyway but really )  
( I make music, that's it, and it's sorta done in a way. )  
( YOUR work? You gotta be BOUNCING back and forth )  
( between like twenty people every week )  
( maybe more )  
( I have an agent for that. )  
( Because that shit wears you OUT. )

( **La_Sombra **)  
( Don't really have a choice. )  
( At the end of my rope some of these days. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( That's what therapy's for, woman. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( ain't nobody got TIME for that! )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( You got time to be talking with ME. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Whatever! Besides. )  
( Like I'm crazy enough to be seeing a shrink )  
( with all the illegal hacker shit I'M up to? )  
( For one, you think I wouldn't hack them in a second? )  
( Can barely open up to you, let alone some quack. )  
( And anyway with what I'VE done? )  
( Yea, OK. Lemme just confess my sins, Doc. )  
( And then watch you go to the cops. )  
( Real smart move. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( Client confidentiality and all that. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( I guess. Still don't trust 'em. )  
( Remember: I WORK with doctors. )  
( They follow the rules so long as it doesn't get in their way. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( oh RIGHT lol. )  
( OK, fair point. )  
( Well, you trust ME? )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Remains to be seen. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( As our leader in this whole )  
( diddly doo )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( omfg )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( you have a certain obligation to take CARE of yourself. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Try telling my EMPLOYER that. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( Somehow I don't think your employer will take into account illicit information brokering. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Yea. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( Anyway, what I'm getting at )  
( is that I'm here for you, girl. )  
( I'm no psychologist or psychiatrist or psych-anything-ist )  
( But if you need someone to talk to... )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Appreciate that, I just don't know if it's such a good idea. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( Why? )  
( You think I'm going to stab you in the back or something? )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( You don't really have much to gain from doing that. )  
( Only enemies to make. )  
( So no, it's not that. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( Then what is it? )  
( Alma sees it, too, you know. )  
( And I think your little protege is starting to, as well. )  
( And this friend you're talking about? )  
( It's L, right? )

Sombra was all cautious with names and had only given a single letter for this person. Marina could read between the lines and guess who was being talked about.

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Yea, what about her? )  
( What're you getting at?)

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( We all can see it. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( See what? )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( That you want connections, but that you're afraid of them. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( I don't WANT connections. )  
( We all just NEED them to get shit done. )

Hm. It did make Marina think: why was she so gung-ho about Crash Red? Was it because she knew they needed that kind of connection for mutual gains? Or because she _wanted _the connection in and of itself? Wasn't it some of both, really?

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( If that's true, )  
( why did you cry over your friend L ditching you last night? )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( What? I never said that. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( Bitch do NOT even lie x'D fffff )  
( You DID say that )  
( and then you DELETED it )  
( like I ain't gonna look that up. )  
( Like I don't have the means. )  
( Like I wouldn't notice. )  
( I'm not STUPID. )  
( I know you did that JUST to see )  
( if I gave a fuck enough to look into it. )  
( So, congrats, I did. )  
( Cause I DO. )  
( And I think this is exactly what all your stress is about. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Look, some shit just came up with Unseeing. )  
( I've gotta take care of this ASAP. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( oh, UH-HUH. )  
( Yea, OK. )  
( I see how it is. )  
( Gonna disappear like usual? )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Man don't go GUILTING me )  
( I'm not your "princess" )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh **)  
( You ASKED for my advice. )  
( Then you wanna up and bounce )  
( as SOON as I start laying it out on you. )

( **La_Sombra **)  
( No, look, seriously. )  
( I'm not lying. )  
( Appreciate the input. )  
( For real. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( And? )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( I'll be on later tonight. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( I won't be. Evening's all taken up. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Tomorrow, then. )

( **DJ_Hyperfresh** )  
( We'll see. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Reboot and try again. )

( User **( La_Sombra ) **has logged off. )

"_Rrrrhhhhggghh...!_"

"다시 한 판 해보자고!"

The furious clicking and mechanical keyboard slamming coming from Hana's desk – which basically occupied the majority of the living room – was the only sound Olivia had to keep her company as she scrolled furiously through the data Unseeing had just sent her.

It burned at the base of her skull, an unsettling sensation crawling down her neck that the steady buzz of alcohol could not stifle.

Marine Iida, aka 'Marina,' legitimately seemed interested in playing nice, making friends, _bonding._

Olivia _wanted that. _Badly. And she knew that was a sign right _there _to specifically avoid it. It was like her old smoking habit – she _knew _it was bad for her, and being _around _smokers, who offered their cigarettes, it made it _so fucking annoying _to stay off the shit. But how could you avoid it when it was your co-workers? _Argh._And yet there she was, at the bottom end of another glass of Stabsinthe. Just trading addictions for each other. Information, smoking, booze. She was a woman of many addictions, and could only seem to balance one at a time without another wrapping its fingers around her neck.

At least with the rest of her addictions, Sombra could manage them well enough. They were objects, they were tangible, they were personal. Friendships, though? Those were unpredictable.

"완전 좋아!"

Olivia _hadn't _been lying, though – Sandra had indeed assaulted her with an emergency that needed immediate attention. Something was going wrong with the software Ms. Vaswani was installing in the new hardware, and Liv was the person best equipped to assist her. Seeing as the entire core of the software _might _or might not have been lifted from a Black Mesa server (modified _just _enough to look like she'd just _stumbled _upon the same concepts), it wasn't _too _surprising that there were some unforeseen issues. She could chalk them up to 'time constraints' and all that.

( **The_Unseeing_Sister** )  
( Chief Makise is requesting your immediate presence to assist Aperture Science. )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Damnit. Really? )

( **The_Unseeing_Sister** )  
( Ha. )  
( Am I known to tell lies? )

( **La_Sombra** )  
( Rhetorical. ~_~ )  
( Anyway, yea OK, I need a fucking minute, here. )

( **The_Unseeing_Sister** )  
( I'd advise limiting yourself to exactly that. )

Fumbling to change into a decent enough shirt – she'd scramble on a fucking lab coat or some something when she got there – Olivia checked her phone hastily.

Sure enough, she had some ANGRY texts from Chief Makise.

( **Christina** )~-  
( Where the hell ARE you, Calomar? ])~-  
( I've tried dialing you three times. )~-  
( CALL ME. )~-

Damn, very informal for her.

Scrounging her unbrushed hair into a messy bun, Olivia rushed out of her room, _tripped _into something, was freaked out by the shrill _yelping _noise it made, and found herself crashing into the living room wall, jostling a framed pop-band poster slightly askew.

"_ARGH, ¡puta perra!_" she growled under her breath.

Orisa whimpered, scampering awkwardly between Olivia's feet.

"Stupid...-!" Liv grunted. "Make up your _mind, _you...-!"

Making way for the door, Liv suddenly realized she was still in short shorts and, you know...needed pants. To go to work. Playing this aggravated dancing game with Orisa, Liv needed the pup under control for like _ten seconds, _here. A quick glance toward the kitchen showed that Orisa's food _and _water dishes were empty, and there was also a little puddle of yellow on the linoleum. _NICE._

"_Ey, _**HANA**!" Liv snarled.

"죽는줄 알았네!"

But Hana has _sucked _into her e-sports shit, as _usual. _Which was, like, fine, great, cool, _but goddessdamnit _the _dog, _man! Couldn't she take care of the fucking _dog, _at least?!

Accidentally kicked Orsa _again _– "_¡Mierda!_ _Augh, _lo siento," she grumbled, trying to keep cool because, fuck, it wasn't the poor animal's fault.

"_Hey! _Hana! Your _dog!_"

"어머... 안 미안!" Hana was _really _into her fucking game.

Shambling to the computer desk, Olivia ripped Hana's headset right off.  
"_**Heyyy!**_" squealed Hana, her _bratty _voice like a fucking _icicle _in Olivia's ear. "What the _hell?!_"

"Your _dog!_" Liv barked, pointing at the kitchen.

"What _about _it?" Hana grumbled, continuing to _play the fucking game anyway!_

"She _pissed _on the floor!" Olivia snapped.

_"-ARP-ARP!-" _Orisa was getting all playful from the noise. _Urgh._

"What?" Hana's head _finally _swiveled _away _from the monitor, at Liv.

Liv, who'd just about _had it _with like, _everyone, _grabbed Hana's skull, _twisted _it to the kitchen, and took the opportunity to storm to her room for pants.

"You've been _ignoring _her again!" Olivia growled from across the apartment, shoving on a pair of slacks. "Fucking _A, _Hana, you need me to give her back, or _what?_"

"_Ahhhh, _damnit," Hana whimpered. "_Again?_"

Liv could hear Orisa barking, Hana scolding the poor pup, a quick grumbling in her native tongue into her headset...

"_Rees, _why didn't you _tell _me?!" Hana was grumbling, placing the blame on the dog, of course. She was a _puppy, _she didn't know what she was doing, you had to, like, _check on her _and shit. Link's sake, this girl...

Liv finally found herself ready..._enough_...to go to work.

"I've gotta go," Liv huffed, storming for the door. "Fucking take care of your _dog,_ Hana!"

Wiping dog piss off the floor with paper towels, Hana whined, "I _will, _I _will! _...창녀..."  
Olivia didn't understand that last bit, but she knew an insult when she heard one.

"If you don't _want _to, I will _find _someone who does!" Olivia dangerously threatened, heading for the door.

"_I get it!_" Hana groaned back, knees to the floor, wincing as some piss touched her fingertips through the paper towel.

_JEEZ, _that uppity little bitch, who'd _she _think she was, ordering Hana around! This was a _shared_ living space, why'd this dog become all _her _responsibility? If _she _didn't work from home, had a normal fucking day job, Liv wouldn't have any excuses to _pile _this all on Hana. Fucking boring-ass _desk job, _what'd it matter? Why such a rush? Why such an emergency? Hana had an _audience, _thank you very much! People _waiting _on her. And she _worked out, _too, had to keep up her figure, do podcasts and videos, work on her music when she had _any _energy left. It wasn't like it was _just _playing video games!

But the video games were currently the _main thing _keeping her afloat. And _now _she was going to probably lose this match – they had been _winning, _too. _Just _when it felt like they were finding their way _out _of this losing streak!

Hana groaned and whimpered all the way to the garbage bin, carrying the gross, gross, gross pee-soaked paper towel. She trashed it with a quick and hasty _flick _of her wrist, then dashed to the sink, rinsing her hands off with dish soap and hot water.

"_-ARP-ARP!-_"

"I knowwww, I _knowww_!" Hana huffed, rolling her head back as she scrubbed her _instruments, _her precious hands. Which _now _needed to be properly moisturized. Orisa was waddling around Hana's feet, whimpering and whining. "I'll feed you after this match, I _promise!_"

"_-rrrrrARP!_-"

Sighing loudly, Hana sniffed her hands – smelled squeaky clean. She grabbed a glob of hand lotion from the container on their coffee table, rubbing it across her calloused palms.

Just as Hana went to sit down – finally! – only to see...

[ _**VICTORY!**_ ]

Wait, what? They'd carried? Her team had won without her?

She glanced at the chat.  
_  
__[ gg ]  
[ GG! ]  
[ eyyy 5v6 WASTED ]  
[ Nice ult at the end there. ]  
[ I'm wrestling with some insecurity issues in my life but thank you all for playing with me. ]  
[ lol! ]_

_They hadn't even..._

__needed ___her help.  
She couldn't decide if that made her feel better or ___worse.___  
_  
"_-ARP-arp-ARP!-_"

Orisa was padding her paws at Hana's toes. Hana rubbed at her face, realizing just how baggy her eyes felt, and slumped over in her chair. One elbow on one knee, cheek in her hand, Hana stretched out the other arm lazily to pet her dirty, smelly pup on the hand.

_Yuck._

Orisa needed a _bath. _Hell, Hana probably did, too...She'd just been to the gym, worked up a real sweat...hadn't showered yet. Soooo-...

She slipped her headset on briefly enough to explain that she had to hop off to her rapidly dwindled audience – half of her viewers had left while she'd been gone.

Diving into the team text chat, she told her group,  
[ wow! gj everyone! guess it was MY turn to be carried for once lol! ]

[ You were the queen and we all carried your throne down the street. ]  
[ QUEEN ]  
[ show us DEEWAY ]  
[ Do u no DA WAY? ]  
[ queen queen queen ]  
[ Let's roll more 5v6 for our QUEEN! ]  
[ I offer tribute! ]

Off put by the tone, Hana had to save face, so she concluded,  
[ haha! Thanks for your support! L8R! ]

Warily, Hana...left. She felt a little hollow, but wasn't sure why.

_"-__rrrnnn?-"_ Orisa was hungry.

"_I _know," Hana sighed. "I promised..."

By the time Hana had shut down her game, ended her livestream, and put her computer to sleep...she realized she had a missing call on her phone. Oh, dang, she had _multiple _missed calls.

[ _Lúcio_ ]  
[ _Uncle Jack_ ]  
[ _Dae-hyun_ ]

Of the three, Jack was the one she kind of owed a call-back, she admitted to herself. Grabbing her bluetooth, she popped it onto her ear and gave him a ring, heading for the kitchen.

[ "Chief Morrison speaking, how-...Oh. Hana?" ]

She giggled at the way he'd sounded _so serious _at first but had softened up as soon as he'd realized it was her.

"_Hiya~_" she greeted. "Jack! How're y...-?" She skidded to a stop, realizing _she hadn't sanitized the doggy-piss floor. _"아, 씨발!"

[ "Uh...-? Is everything...all right?" ]

"_Haa~ _Fine, I'm fine, everything's...A-OK~" Hana tip-toed around the damp part of the kitchen. Then winced when Orisa padded her fat feet _right over _the pee-spot.

[ "You sound...distressed." ] His _gruff manly voice _always made her want to laugh, he could take the littlest thing and make a _whole deal _out of it. And he certainly _had _in the past.

"Oh, whaaattt? _Nooo, _just, _uh, _doing a little-"  
"-_YAR-YARP!-_"  
"-cl-cleaning!" Hana opened the cabinet beneath the sink as Orisa begged for attention.

[ "Is that...a _dog?_" ]

"_Oh yeaaa, _it's-...It's been a little while, huh?" She tossed and shoved materials around until – _aha. _Got the all-purpose cleaner.

"_-rrrrARF!-_"

[ "When did you get a dog...?" ]

"_Ah, _little while back, she's...still a _puppy, _ahahaha~" She tensed up suddenly when she almost dropped the paper towel roll.

[ "Huh. What breed?" ]

Ripping off some sheets of paper, Hana paused. Her mind was drawing a blank. She looked down at Orisa, who was wagging her entire butt up at her, panting.

"Erhh...S-Some kind of...bulldog?" Hana squirted multipurpose liquid against the spot on the floor.

[ "Ah. A mutt, huh?" ]

"_Oh, _n-no, she's...-"  
"_-rrrrrrARP!_-" Orisa was trying to walk _all over _the spot Hana was trying to _clean, _come on!  
"She's a _handful, _is-...is what she is. _Ahaha~_" Hana's plastic laughter felt as empty as it sounded.

Shoving Orisa around – she _slid _across the smooth, tiled floor with some ease – Hana reapplied cleaning liquid and got to wiping.

Scrubbing the floor, Hana mindlessly rattled, "She's loud, she _always _wants attention, and she gets in the way at _all _the wrong moments..."

[ "_Heh. _Sounds like someone I _know_..." ]

"Ah_-psssh!_" Hana scoffed, knowing he was referring to _her. _"How mean!"

[ "At least you landed on your feet, kid." ]

"_Exactly, _so-...So I'm more like a _cat, _Jack."

[ "Oh, _I see. _Lounging around all day, then?" ] He was taunting her!

"_Ahhhh, _don't be a jerk to me, Uncle Jack!" Hana pouted. "I've been working _super _hard!"

[ "I find that difficult to believe..." ]

"_Ohhhh~!_" Hana huffed, her entire face contorting toward this performance, which...wasn't even required, here. She was so used to posing for her webcam. She tried to relax her face as she continued to clean. "I'll show _you_."

[ "I heard you haven't been doing the, urh-..." ] He cleared his throat. [ "The musician thing?" ]

"Aw, _what?! _Have _so_!"  
She hadn't. Really.

[ "When was the last time you...dropped...any 'fat beats?' On the-...Er...-" ]

"_Sssss! _I don't do _that _kind of music." She tossed the cleaner-soaked towel, using her toes to scratch Orisa's head for a moment.

[ "Oh, of course. _I _know that. I...-" ]

"Your Awkward Grandpa is showing, Jack," she teased, dampening more paper towel in water.

[ "Well. I'm _not_ a young man anymore...But I'm not a _grandfather!_" ]

"No? But you _sound _like one..." Heh. _**Got**__ 'em!_

[ "Chief of Police, being hassled by a shut-in..." ]

"I _work _from home!" Hana whined, quickly rinsing the floor with the water. "I do-...I'm up to _all _kinds of stuff!" She could _feel _the judginess coming through the phone. He probably _still _held it against her that she'd quit the force before she'd even graduated. Er, well, 'quit' made it sound like...she had _chosen _to leave, but...-

[ "I thought you were supposed to be pursuing music?" ] Jack reminded. [ "That seemed like a decent enough thing to do..." ]

"I-...I _am_!" she cited, her voice cracking defensively. She dumped the wet paper towel away and sighed, putting the roll back on its dispenser. "I'm just-...Composing is _hard_, and I've had...lots of other responsibilities, and...-"

[ "Playing games?" ]

"It's a _sport._" She grabbed Orisa's water dish.

[ "_Erngh. _Back in _my _day, sports involved _effort _and _work._" ]

"_Rude~_" whimpered Hana, filling the dish with tap water. "This _totally _takes effort and work! I have to practice, like, _every _day!" _Argh, _her voice was...coming out more _childish _than she wanted, she was just..._so _used to conditioning herself to talk this way.

[ "You want a _medal?_" ] Jack grunted.

Setting the dish down, Hana spat, "Actually, _yea_, that's the whole _point! _I _have _some medals already, you know!"

[ "They give out _medals _for...playing _computer _games now?" ] _HA _he sounded so _depressed _about it!

"They _do!_" Hana chimed, watching Orisa slurp up water. She bent over to grab the dogfood. Shit, where was it, again...? "And-...And I'm trying to be one of the people who _wins _them. It's a _job, _Jack."

[ "_Pah. _I guess _anything _can be a 'job' these days...Even playing games." ]

"Are you sure _life _isn't a game, Chief _Morrison_?"

[ "_Ha. _Guess I'd better...check myself before...wrecking myself, huh?" ]

Hana _snorted _a laugh at that car-crash of a line delivery.

She found the dogfood and went about filling Orisa's dish. Orisa was so excited, her chunky doggo body bumped the bad around, spilling food bits into the water dish.

[ "Anyway, Longest Night is closing in, and I was wanting to check in on you, see what your plans were." ]

"Aww, you _do _love me."

[ "Wasn't sure if you'd be heading back to see your parents, or...-" ]

_Eesh. _Yea, maybe..._not _so much. Hana had honestly...not even considered any of that. She'd been so wrapped up in everything.

"Are you inviting me over for Longest Night?" Hana playfully asked.

[ "Offering a seat at the table if you're interested. You know you're always welcome with us." ]

_Even though I turned out to be a complete failure that you STILL don't quite believe can take care of herself? And half of the people there will still treat me like a fucking __**child**__? Ahh, I know you mean well, though, but...-_

"That's sweet, Jack," she said, petting Orisa's head for sec, only to be reminded of how dirty she was. "I'll...think on that, check on my schedule, and get back to you."

[ "No pressure, I know you like your own space." ] _Aw, _he sounded...rejected...She felt bad now...

"Ah, n-no, I appreciate it, really! I'll let you know!"  
She _really _wasn't sure she wanted to...Not if everyone was going to be there.

[ "Just wanted to make sure I threw that out there before I forgot. Is all." ]

"_Right! _No, I understand, Uncle." _Right, yes, toss out the familial title to make sure he feels encouraged! _"Seriously, that's nice of you, I know you've got _soooo muchhh _to worry about lately. I appreciate you checking up on me."

It wasn't a lie. Her honorary 'Uncle' really _did _care about her, and that _was _nice, when it felt like so many others had, like...kind of given up on her?

Hana wandered to the living room couch and tiredly dropped herself onto it.

[ "Of course. It's been some time since I've heard from you. Wanted to make sure you were doing all right. You don't-...You don't need help with anything, do you?" ]

"_Whaaaa-? _No, no-no, I'm _fine. Ahaha~ _Silly Jack..."  
There she was again, all _smiling _and _squinting _and waving her _hand, _he couldn't even _see_ but it was...just instinct at that point.

Self-preservation, almost.

[ "If you're behind on rent, or...-" ]

"_Ahaha, _Jack, _nooo, _really! I'm doing OK."  
_Barely. But OK! On my own!_

[ "You're sure?" ] _**so serious!**_

"I'm sure! It's not like I'm going to end up _homeless _or something.

[ "Not on _my _watch." ]

_i'm not a child i'm not a child i'm not a child  
fuck fucking __**FUCK**__  
__**!.!.!.!**_

_**smile just smile and nod, smile and nod.!.!.!**_

"_Haaa~ _Guess I have you looking out for me, at least..."

Hana tucked some hair behind her ear, smiling politely, practically _pinkening _her cheeks on cue.  
For _fucking no one. _No one was there!  
Just her _dog's butt, _waggling around as she ate her food.

Hana felt her face stiffen, eyes-wide, jaws clenched, fingers tightening.  
She inhaled a sharp breath through her nose, _glaring _at no one, at nothing, at some _invisible camera._

This shit was _mayyyybe _getting to her? This 'lifestyle.' Keeping this all up.

But what choice did she have?  
Move back _home _with her _parents?  
_Have them force her into who _knew _what line of work? Probably _modeling _or some shit?  
Let Uncle _Jack _take care of her?  
Like some fucking _Sugar Daddy?  
_Helllll no!

Team M.E.K.A. was her life now. Maybe they weren't necessarily 'family' in the sense of...having each other over for Longest Night or whatever, but they were _her _team. She would hold it together, she'd _prove _she was strong enough to at _least _do that.

[ "Well." ] Jack broke the silence. Hana wasn't even sure how long it had lasted. [ "Sorry if I've bothered you, you...probably have some 'match' coming up, for all I know. Practice-practice." ]

"_Heheh~ _Yeaaa, I should probably be getting off..."

[ "I'll let you go, then, Hana." ]

"Thanks for calling."

[ "You called _me._" ]

"_Ahaha, _r-right! I meant, you called _me _first."

[ "Just looking out for you, kid." ]

Hana was briefly distracted by a text-message-ding she got. Oh, it was Luna, seemed like the Team was waiting on her. She silenced the notifications.

"Um. Yea, _I_ know," she replied to Jack. "I _do _appreciate it...But I'm fine."

[ "That's good to hear." ]

"I'll, um-..._Yea~ _I'll let you know about Longest Night."

[ "I'll wait to hear from you." ]

"Take care, Uncle Jack!"

[ "You, too, Song." ]

After hanging up the call, Hana drizzled out a sigh through fluttering lips.

Orisa, who'd gobbled up all of her food, scraped her claws furiously along the linoleum as she pushed herself onward. Prancing into the living room, she snatched up a battered Pachimari plush and tossed it around a bit. Hana acknowledged that she _really _should give the poor doggie a bath buuuut she wouldn't have time until after practice. Couldn't let her teammates down.

Untying her ponytail and reaching for a nearby brush, Hana tried tidying up her hair with one hand as she scrolled the texts she'd received with the other. _Eeep, _she'd gotten a _bunch_ of texts. Impatient much?

( From: )  
( HANAAAAAA )-  
( SOOOONNNGGG )-  
( Where you AT, lady? )-  
( hmu hmu )-  
( wtf )-  
( D. )-  
( VAAAAA )-  
( well whatev! We're getting on in fifteen. )-

Abandoning her hair and shoving it back into a tail, she responded.

-( Sorry for the delay! )  
-( Suiting up! )

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_Red and 'The Bouncer' originate from __**Transistor**__ (Supergiant Games).  
Marina and Pearl originate from __**Splatoon 2 **__(Nintendo).  
Jack Morrison (Soldier 76) originates from __**Overwatch **__(Blizzard).  
Futaba Sakura (Oracle-Alibaba) originates from __**Persona 5 **__(Atlus)._


	9. Episode 9

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)****

**Episode 9  
**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_(  
Beatrice Santello, portrayed by mollifiable )_

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"Too bad you didn't get partially devoured by a cougar."

"Too bad you didn't get axe-murdered."

"Too bad you didn't get run over by a steam roller."

"Too bad you didn't get melted in acid."

"Too bad you didn-"  
"_Link's sake, _you two," Beatrice grunted, her tone flashing with sheepish embarrassment and irritation at once. "We're in _public, _cut the creepy bullshit."

"Yea," Angus sighed tiredly, scratching his hair beneath his fedora. "Are you both _done_?"

Mae and Gregg had this..._thing _they did where they both taunted the other with fucked up ways to die. Bea had never found it funny when they were in high school, and guess what? She didn't find it funny after the fact, either.

"_I _was enjoying it," blurted Chloe with an aghast shrug as she held open the glass door for the rest.

"Well. _You _seem to have a real fascination with death," Alex mused teasingly, passing through.

"You have no idea," Max mumbled with a slow shake of her head, to which Chloe shot a weirdly sneaky smirk.

"Ya'll need to lighten up," Mae huffed, next inside.

Heading in herself, Bea cited grumpily, "Maybe if our existence wasn't so fleeting and _exhausting..._-"

She thought silently, _'Maybe if some of us hadn't __**lost people **__already...-'_

"Look," Chloe defended, seeing Gregg and Angus pass in, "Death is just part of the deal we all have. Comin' for all of us sooner or later. I'm just sayin', rather mock it, not be afraid of it, than fear it around every corner, ya know?"

After saying this, Chloe tried to seek some kind of, what, acknowledgment? From Bea? Hard pass on that. Beatrice maybe could get confronting it, of course, but making a mockery of it? Yea, no thanks.

As Chloe finally entered the shop, Max took her hand, grunting dejectedly, "Maybe it'd be nice to _not _make a joke of that shit once in a while? Like now? Now would be a _great _night to not do that..."

Bea glanced over her shoulder at the look the married couple exchanged. Chloe's expression flickered in a strange way, and she scratched at the back of Max's scalp, kissing her on the forehead.

"Got it, Bebb," Chloe muttered with a tenderness Bea recognized but hadn't seen in a long time. "Sorry."

"Thank you," Max sighed quietly, leaning into the kiss Chloe planted upon her.

As the lot of them lined up at the front counter, Beatrice overheard Mae jokingly whisper over Gregg's shoulder, "Too bad you didn't get shot by a crossbow while taking a shit," to which Gregg stifled a snicker.

Gregg then snuck in his own, "Too bad you didn't get stabbed in the back while praying to your ancestors."

Beatrice felt her jaw lock with an all-too-familiar bitterness.

Standing in line, Bea took in the ominous glow of the neon logo occupying the wall at the entrance to the shop they now stood with.

"N-Nah, I don't...-" Alex was fussing with Mae, who was nudging the poor girl, taunting her to go first. "I've never been here before, I don't know what I want, so...-"

"Never _been _here before?" Mae balked. "What's _wrong _with us, guys? We've utterly _failed _her as friends."

Gregg nodded emphatically, but Angus just shrugged, casting a sideways glance at Bea, who rolled her eyes. Mae was the only one here who actually _knew _the girl, so what the hell were they on about?

The depressed-looking, sunken-eyed worker behind the counter cleared his throat before mechanically blurting out, "Welcome to Donut Wolf home of the Slammercake now featuring pancakes with special Howlin Mad Maple Syrup how would you like to ride the chariot today?"

"Takes me back," Chloe could be heard gleefully whispering to Max from behind.

Max fondly reminisced, "William would always howl like a wolf and embarrass the _hell _out of us whenever he'd take us here..."

"Every time," Chloe reflected, her tone glazing over with that all-too-familiar sting Bea understood. "And he'd always get the same custard filled ones, with the sprinkles?"

"Yea..."

When Beatrice tried to reflect on some memory of her late mom like that, her mind would go to places like...watching her mom smoke out on the porch in the rain after dinner was served.

"Mighty fine donuts you got here," said Mae with narrow-eyed smarm at the worker.

"Thank you, Ma'am," said the employee, slightly puzzled but tonally serious.

"It's not 'Ma'am,'" Mae retorted plainly, casually, surveying the donut selection.

"Oh, erh...-" The employee fished out, "Sir?"

"_Uh, _let's just go with 'Mae,'" they said with a shrug, "and leave it at that."

"...Right," the worker responded with a nod, seemingly unfazed, but more in a 'downtrodden by this day-job with no fucks left to give' sort of way. Which, well, yea, you guessed it – a sensation Bea knew quite well.

"Dude," said Gregg. "We should get Chariot Wheels."

"We got Chariot Wheels last time, Babe," Angus pointed out.

"I want **SLAMMERCAKES**," Mae blurted, smacking their palms together and rubbing them with anticipation.

"What are these, like..._ball _thingies?" Alex asked, pointing at an assortment of donut holes. "Like, mini-donuts, or...-?"

Mae gasped with an incredulous horror, "Since _when _did they start carrying donut holes?"

"Donut..._what_-now?" Alex murmured.

"Donut holes?" Mae tossed out the phrase.

Alex shrugged, shaking her head slightly.

Mae hissed, "You've never had _donut holes _before?"

"oh my goddess," said Gregg blankly, staring at the green-haired girl with wide-eyed alarm.

"They're good," Angus offered his simple but to-the-point take. "You should try some."

The worker corrected, "We actually call them Bark Bites," but no one seemed to mind him.

"They're _donut holes_," Mae specified to Alex on the 'sly.'

"Wh-? Donut _'holes?'_" Alex balked, shrugging wildly, hands in her jacket pockets. "Those _are...spheres, _not holes. Donut _balls? _I-..._Just, _that doesn't even make sense, 'holes?' How would you even _eat _ahole?"

Chloe snorted a laugh, Max slapped her (but still giggled a little), Mae and Gregg exchanged gleefully stupid childish grins, Angus sighed, and Beatrice...felt her eyes roll back into her skull.

The whole thing clearly sailed over poor Alex's head, and she looked a little lost for just a moment before she realized everyone's minds had slid into gutters.

Having obviously been dying to say it, Mae finally burst out, "How _would _you eat a hole? _eH. _Same way you'd eat _balls_, I guess."

And everyone chuckled a bit. Even Angus sighed out a little laugh through his nose, shaking his head a bit.

Alex's expression turned flat in an instant, and when her gaze met Bea's equally unamused look, Bea just nodded, tight-lipped, brows lifted, as if to say, _'This is my life.'_

"_Haaughhh,_ real funny," Alex groaned out, rubbing her palm across her neck and stepping away from the counter, head sinking into her shoulders. Hm.

"_Hehhhh_-nee-**way**," Mae spit out, flailing their hands around and approaching the counter. "OK, OK, _OK...What'd _I say I wanted, again?"

"Uh...-" Gregg was scratching his head.

Bea tried to shoot Alex a glance as the girl passed her by, but Alex seemed too embarrassed to look at any of them as she placed herself at the back of the line. Fucking Mae, what was their problem? Could they at least not be a dick to their own roommate?

Bea couldn't hear what was said beneath the sound of Angus and Gregg sussing out an answer to Mae's question, but she _could _tell just from body language that Max was trying to ease Alex out of her embarrassment. A gentle touch on Alex's shoulder and a quiet encouragement reminded Beatrice of the Max she'd known back when they were all teens. More so than the rest of them, Max Caulfield seemed distinctly more..._different _than she had been when they'd all been in school together. Beatrice didn't know the ins and outs of _why _this was, but it seemed apparent enough that something big had changed the girl in her transition to womanhood.

All the more reason for Bea to be a bit jealous, the more she thought on it.

"AH YEA!" Mae shouted, entirely louder than necessary. "**SLAMMERCAKES. **I WANT 'em!"__

"Actually we are out of Slammercakes," the worker announced dryly, deflating Mae's enthusiasm. Bea relished this a little, she had to admit.

"..._WHAT?!_" yelped Mae after a moment. "HOW can you be out of **SLAMMERCAKES?!** That's like half the reason to COME HERE!"

"Dude," Angus pleaded, "Just pick something else. Please."

"Yea," Bea said, "Stop freaking _out. _Got too big a migraine for this shit..."

Mae stuck their tongue out at Beatrice's remark, which, yea, fine. Cool. Mock her chronic headaches, nice.

"So, what do _you_ want?" Angus asked his boyfriend.

"..." was what Gregg had to contribute. He looked weirdly contemplative and seemed a bit quieter than usual that evening.

"I vote for Chariot Wheels," Chloe made her decision known. "I came here to ride that chariot to donut hell. By dad-gum that's what I'm-a _do._ Don't know what else _ya'll _came here for..."

Max shrugged, indifferent, only for her expression to harden a second later before she said, "We should get some donut holes, too. Let Alex try those out."

The worker reminded, "Bark Bites?"

"Urhh...-?" Max was put on the spot. She'd never taken well to that, Bea recalled.

"Yea, yea," Mae dismissed. "You wanna try those, right, Al?"

"Uh, y-yea, sure, sounds...good," Alex conceded warily.

The group went silent for a moment.

"So we'll get summa those," Mae clarified for the shop worker.

"OK, so that's...one box of Bark Bites." The worker typed at his register. "Would you like anything else?"

Another odd silence.

"Babe?" Angus prodded, bumping his hip against Gregg's.

"Ehh...-" Gregg's face squirmed uncertainly.

Angus puffed another small laugh through his nostrils before declaring, "Let's get a couple dozen Chariot Wheels, then." Glancing to Beatrice, he invited her to order. "Bea?"

Beatrice shook her head lightly, calmly citing, "I'm probably just gonna have one or two, I'm good."

"Mae?" Angus checked.

"Mmmm _whaaaat _the frizzy-frick are 'Doomnuts?'" they excitedly chirped, jabbing a finger at a display of grim-dark-looking donuts. "Are those new?"

The worker explained, "Those are limited edition, M'-...Mae."

Mae bore a toothy grin, rubbing their palms together as they declared, "Well, they're about to be even _more _limited, gimme six o' _them_!"

"Roger that." The worker typed some more, reciting: "I have: two dozen Chariot Wheels, half a dozen Doomnuts, and twenty Bark Bites. Will that be all?"

Everyone silently exchanged glances, passively confirming their order.

"Would you like Eternity Sauce with that?" they were asked.

This received a resounding "No," from at least three sources.

"What's _that_?" Max asked, baffled at the name alone.

In truth, Bea was just as much in the dark, but gave less of a crap to ask.

"You don't wanna _know_," Chloe solemnly explained.

"You really don't," Angus confirmed.

"It's terrible," said Max.

"The last time I had _that_ shiz," Mae recalled, "I stayed up all night digging a hole in our backyard. They found me asleep in the morning. At the bottom of a hole. Which I had dug myself. And had no memory of digging."

"Ahhh yea, I remember that," Gregg mumbled, smirking. "Too bad you didn't die in that hole..."

Mae was quick to counter, "Too bad you didn't choke on that crayon you tried to eat."

Wait, what? _Oh yea. _Bea actually knew about that one...She'd picked the idiot up from the hospital afterward.

"I have _no idea _what you're talking about," Gregg facetiously retorted.

"Is _that _why you did that?" Bea scoffed, her eyes squinting as she strained to remember. "Eternity Sauce? I thought you, like...got _high _on some shit..."

"I _did_," Gregg confirmed. "I got sugar high."

"Inconsolably sugar high," said Angus.

Chloe leaned around the group to speak up to the register, "Soooo, that's a hard pass on the crazy sauce, then?"

"Sounds like it," said Max. "Can we go, like..._sit down _yet? My feet are...-" She whimpered warily, her arms sagging.

"Ah, yea, I _really _need to hit the bathroom," Alex pointed out. Damn, the girl looked weird, kinda shaky, all of a sudden? What the hell? Scratching at her arms a lot...

"_Oh dude sames,_" said Mae.

"So, we're eating here, then?" Angus posed, watching Mae already scurry away.

"Hella _yes, _we're eating here," Chloe decreed. "Half the reason you come here is for the ambiance."

Beatrice sullenly observed the lifeless, sterile-yet-musty environs, and finally took a moment to pay attention to the cheery-in-a-depressing-way music playing through the tinny speaker system.

"Must be fresh outta ambiance, too," Bea remarked drearily, her eyes glazing over.

"Huh?" Alex was lost.

"Like the Slammercakes," Gregg explained. "The other half of the reason you come here. According to Mae."

"I come here for the donuts," Angus explained, producing a card to pay for the order.

"I come here to remember how much I hate myself," said Chloe with facetious cheer, hands on her hips, nodding.

"_Oh_, psh," Max puffed, elbowing her wife squeamishly. "Come on, that's not...-" Her thought wandering off, Max scratched Chloe's shoulder in a warm way that made Bea a little envious.

Alex breezed on by the group, heading for the bathroom after Mae.

"Coming here is like going to a bar but in reverse," Gregg observed.

"That _does _sound like hell," joked Chloe.

Beatrice did not...quite get what either of them had meant. But then, she never felt compelled to go to bars in the first place. So.

As Angus accepted the receipt, Gregg pointed out, "Hell is better when you're riding through its never-ending flames in style."

"On a chariot," Max clarified with skepticism.

"To DONUT HELL," Mae growled, pumping up their fist while following Alex to the bathroom.

"This..._does _seem like a version of hell, all right," Bea remarked, feeling a bit for the poor dude behind the counter, who was getting to work scraping donuts and donut-related-goods together.

Max and Chloe found a booth table they liked and Chloe grabbed a spare chair, pulling it up to the table's open edge. The scraping of the chair legs against the tiled floor was uncomfortable.

Angus reviewed his receipt, tucking it neatly into his wallet before approaching Gregg and giving his boyfriend a rub on the back.

"...This is fun," said Gregg simply. He looked to Beatrice, a desperate glint in his eye. "Yea?"

Beatrice gave him her usual tired look, but closed her eyes for a moment, took a sharp breath in through her nose, shrugged, and replied, "Yea. Sure."

Gregg whapped the back of his wrist lightly against Bea's bicep, asking, "Yo, where _Germ _at, anyhow?"

"Workin' the Pickaxe," Bea said simply. "Doing inventory for me. How I'm here in the first place."

"Dang, you _trust _him with that?" Gregg pondered dubiously.

Bea smirked, shrugging, and replied, "Not sure I _trust _that guy with anything, but he knows how to run the shop while I'm gone."

"Bet he runs it with an iron fist," theorized Gregg.

Bea shrugged, but found herself imagining the idea without any difficulty, and then nodded, brows lifted. Germ probably _did _put on a dictator's hat while Beatrice was away...

The trio stood in nostalgic silence for a few minutes, everyone checking their phones.

Beatrice had texts from her dad:

( We need sugar. )-  
( also eggs )-  
( actlly milk and cereal too )-

_You're the one sitting at home all day, I left cash in the ash tray, why can't YOU...-?_

Bea felt her fingers tighten over her phone for a moment, but she kept her cool.

She responded:  
-( I'll get groceries on the way home. )

It'd be easier this way.

She also noticed she had texts from Ms. Lindholm?

( Hey! It's Brigitte. )-  
( Just wanted to say thanks for sending your friend my way. )-  
( Chloe, I mean. )-  
( In case that wasn't clear. )-  
( Anyway yea! )-  
( She's rough around the edges but she's been a hard worker. )-  
( Maybe I could treat you both to drinks some time? )-

...Huh.

Bea didn't really know _what _to make of that.

It wasn't like Ms. Lindholm wasn't friendly – sure, she was. Maybe a bit too much so, for Bea's taste. But why would she be all...trying to socialize like that?

And why was Beatrice...maybe..._interested?_

She replied,  
-( No problem. )  
-( Glad it's working out. )  
-( She gives you any trouble, though, tell me. )  
-( And uh )  
-( I mean sure, if you're serious? )  
-( About the drinks. )  
-( In case that wasn't clear. :P )  
-( btw those Aran batteries you needed came in this morning. )

Shit. Was she _really _that lonely recently? Going out for donuts with the old gang, that was one thing. Taking up a client on a social call, that was something else entirely. Way outside of her typical comfort zone. But the thought of doing new things, or even old things she hadn't been, it gave her a sense of excitement that was easy to mask but hard to ignore.

Gregg suddenly burst into a snicker fit. Rubbing his eyes, he shared his phone with Angus, who adorned a small smile and nodded, bemused. A shrill child's voice piped up from the phone's tiny speakers like tiny nails on a chalkboard.

[ "-...that your _actions have __**consequences?!**_" ]

That was a 'yike,' right there, whatever they were watching.

Finally, Chloe and Max leaned over in their seats, gazing curiously.

"Yo, ya'll gonna _sit_?" Chloe cried out. "Or what?"

"Your order is complete," called out the worker from behind them.

Gregg and Angus waved to Beatrice to go sit and went to retrieve the two trays of baked goods they were about to stuff down their gullets.

Angus and Gregg took the booth seat across from Max and Chloe, and Chloe squeezed herself in, easing Max by the hip to follow suit.

"Huh?" Max was a bit lost, bobbing her head to the empty chair they'd set aside.

"That's Al's chair," said Chloe.

"...Oh." Max nodded, seeming to have caught herself up. She did seem a little lost in thought, but then, that was pretty normal, if Bea recalled. "I don't think she likes 'Al,'" Max pointed out in a mumble. "Don't call her that. Please?"

Chloe sighed, pushing back her half-head of hair over her shoulder with a shrug and a "Yea, yea...'Kay."

See? It could be _that _simple. You request something, and even if they're not jazzed about it, the other person plays along, no fuss. Why was that such a difficult thing for-?

Oh. _Speaking _of...-

"_Ffffoooooo, _those burritos went _right _through me today..." Mae was patting their stomach as they waddled back out onto the store floor and approached the table.  
_  
_Beatrice offered some sound advice: "Maybe don't have burritos for _breakfast, _then?"

Mae dismissed this with a "_Shoosh_," swatting their wrists out as they reached the group.

Gregg smacked his hand against the bit of cushion left on his side of the booth seat, declaring Mae to "Pop a _squat, _y'ol' so-and-so!"

"_Fff_," Mae reacted, grinning like a child as they fist-bumped Greggory and dropped themselves beside him.

Angus had been neatly spreading out confections for the others to choose from as this transpired, and Chloe and Max were strategizing what to aim for.

"We waitin' on Alex?" Chloe asked, drumming her fingers against the table.

"She's been _in _there a while," Max observed.

"She's fine," Mae blew off their concern. "She's not a lost _puppy, _guys, she's all good."

Max seemed off-put by the manner in which Mae had said this. She swapped glances with Beatrice, who lifted a confused brow and shrugged. What made Max think Bea would have any idea what was up?

"We'll just make sure we save her some," Chloe spat out impatiently. "Let's get our grub on, _c'mon_."

The group seemed to collectively agree to this well enough, though Bea was more implicit than in agreement. In truth, she could feel her insides suddenly eager to dispel the copious coffee she'd consumed when ending her opening shift.

"I'll check on her," Beatrice decided, rising up from the booth. "Have at it, kids."

"Time to chow down, squiddos" yelped Gregg, slapping his palms together, rubbing them, and eagerly grasping at a massive flower-sprinkle-covered donut.

With a courteous nod, Angus delicately snatched up one of these 'Doomnuts,' which were just...donuts with occult symbols and the like frosted on them.

Holding his donut up in both palms, Angus bowed his head down low, uttering, "いただきます。"

"...Say _whuh _now?" Mae murmured, their eyes scrunched up as they grasped at a donut without even looking.

As she headed for the bathroom, Beatrice felt her brain ache as she heard Chloe blurt out,  
"Rub-a-dub-wub, thanks for the grub?"

"...No," Max uttered flatly.

_-whap_-

"_Ow_," Chloe flinched through a chuckle.

With the chuckles and snickers of her compatriots behind her, Bea entered the surprisingly clean if somewhat cramped public bathroom. Seemed the store's serious employee must've taken their janitorial duties as solemnly as their donut-selling.

A loud sniff from within one of the three stalls present echoed through the tiled room upon Bea's entrance. This was followed by a slight gagging sound and a cough.

Pausing at the opposing stall door – the middle one empty – Bea asked, "Alex? You...doing OK, there?"

"..._augh, _y-yea, 'm...-" More coughing. "_Blegh,_" Alex groaned disparagingly.

Beatrice entered her stall, undid her belt, and took a seat. As she pissed into the bowl, she overheard Alex making unpleasant grunting noises.

"You _sure _you're all right?" Bea prodded with some dull-toned but genuine concern.

"...migraine," Alex winced simply.

"Mm, yea, me, too." Bea nodded, despite the fact Alex couldn't see her. "Got some ibuprofen in the car, if...-"

"...Oh, no, no thanks, I already took something for it."

"Hm."

"Thanks, though."

Bea crossed her arms around her stomach contemplatively as she leaned forward to finish her business.

Bea then posed the question that had been on her mind since they'd arrived.

"So. Alex."

"Yea?"

"Mae treating you OK?"

"Huh? Treating me...-?"

"She's not, like, causing problems for you. I mean."

"You mean 'they?'"  
_Ffffffffuck._

Bea practically felt her teeth chomping down on her tongue.

"Rrrright. Yea. That's what I meant."

It was _difficult, _all right? Bea was trying, but it was difficult to change the way you thought about, referred to someone like that, especially when they looked the name, acted the name, carried the same name, literally had not grown up _in any faroredamned way, _and with how close they'd been as kids, and then all of those years of distance, and suddenly that was different, it just-...

"Yea, no, I, uh-...Nnnno?" Alex was answering the question. "I don't _think _they've caused me. I mean...they can get...-" Alex trailed off, fluttering a sigh through her lips.

"Oh, I _know_," Bea assured, completely understanding the thought. "Listen, uh...-" Bea took in a deep breath, creasing her palm over her rough, waved hair. She undid her ponytail, flicking her hair out to loosen it up, and re-tied it, all the while saying, "Look, we don't each other, so, uh-...Not judging or anything, but...-"

"...Judging? What? Why would you be judging?"  
_Yikes. Defensive much?_

Bea found herself reconsidering what she had been planning on bringing up.

"I said I'm _not _judging," Bea clarified, "but I know the symptoms when I see them, Alex. I know you're hooked on some kind of shit. Shit that I _presume _Mae set you up with?"

"_Wow, _what-? I don't think that's _any _of your business, _ma'am, _and why the hell're you springing this on me in a fucking _bathroom?_"

Bea sighed – loudly – and gave the moment a few seconds to simmer.

"You're right," Bea testily conceded. "It's _not _my business. I've grown up getting used to cleaning up Mae's fucking messes, is all. So just, yea. Nevermind me. All right? Forget it, forget I bothered."

There was a heavy pause between them that was broken by the sound of Alex flushing her toilet.

As she exited her stall, Alex pointed out, "Mae _said _you were stuck up, all judgmental. Kinda reminds me of my step-brother."

"Mae's not a good influence for you, Alex. Not if you're dealing with an addiction."

"Who said I was _addicted _to anything?" Alex puffed, washing her hands at the sink, at which Bea was unable to speak over.

"I've witnessed someone nearly _die _from OD-ing. That shit can _control _you. I've watched it happen. I've seen the symptoms – and you have them. You can either tell me what it is, and maybe I can help you out, or...you can just pretend like you're invincible."

"Says the chick who chain smokes."

"_Hugh._" Bea's sigh was instinctive and audible. Scratching at her nose, Bea tried to keep her cool, reiterating, "We've _all_ got our addictions, I'm just saying that yours is obviously serious, and I'm offering to _help, _like I've done in the past for others. _You _know Mae, _you _think sh-..._they _never made any stupid mistakes? Who do you think had to bail them out of trouble when they _did?_"

"_Huh_," Alex huffed out an indignant laugh. "I don't know _who _you think you are, but the-"  
"Someone who _grew up _babysitting your roommate. I _know _what I'm talking about, so-"  
"-**but the** **last thing** I need is _more _people butting into my personal life. OK? I mean, just-..." Alex pumped at the paper towel dispenser and tore some off. "Look, I get it, you and Mae were BFF's back in school – doesn't sound like you get along so well anymore? I am _not_ getting in the middle of that. And I have _no _fucking clue _what _makes you think I want your help with _anything, _or that, like, what? That Mae's not 'treating me right?' The hell does _that _even mean? They're a bit of a mess, sure, like _any _of us here _aren't? _Maybe you _present _yourself well? But from everything _I've _heard, your life's not exactly in _order, _either. So...-"

Bea had endured Alex's little rant, and as the woman stood by the bathroom door in a tizzy, Bea wiped down, flushed the toilet, and exited the stall. She shot Alex an ember-eyed glare as she approached the sink to wash her hands.

"You've got a _job _yet?" Bea posed with an ice-tipped, jagged tone, soaping up her hands.

"Still looking," Alex sharply replied. "Actually."

"You know, _Chloe _was having trouble finding work, too," Bea reminded, talking over the sink running. "I offered her _help._ She took it. Had a new job within a week. Is on the up and up now."

At this, Alex belted out a laugh.  
Bea did _not _see what was so funny.

"Oh, yea? Well. Good for _her_," Alex quipped with a smarmy smirk, hands on her hips as she stared at Bea through the sink mirror. "On the 'up-and-up,' huh?"

"That's right," Bea said with a stone-like dullness, flicking water from her fingers.

Shaking her head with that annoying little hint of a smile on her face, Alex cited, "If _that's _what you call it, I think I'm good where I _am_, thanks..."

_Pff. _Wow, maybe there was no helping this immature little brat. What, did she think doing an honest day's work at a shop was _beneath _her, or something?

"Know what?" Bea spat, pumping a sheet of paper towel out to dry her hands. She cut her falt palm through the air, as if severing herself from the conversation. "Forget I said anything. You want your...-" She irritably crumpled the paper towel up, chucking it into the trash bin built into the wall. "-...damn _space? _Your 'freedom?' So you can fuck around, get high, get _sick, _and die young? Have at it. You and Mae can screw off, let others do the heavy lifting, keep your lazy asses afloat. Leave us to stare at the broken pieces left over, pick 'em up."

The image of Bea's mother, bald and pale, withering away in a hospital bed...It was burned into the back of Beatrice's skull, and it was that background image that spurred her so-very-tired but unrelenting approach to this shit. It depended on the day, whether Bea hated her late mother for the decisions she'd made. Whether she hated herself for possibly repeating them, all while trying to steer others away. Made her a hypocrite, didn't it? Maybe. What use was it when her life was already dead-ended, though? At least Mae, Alex, they still had families to spare that crap from. Open-ended futures to mold.

"I offered my help," Bea concluded, "you turned it down. Fair enough. Don't come crawling back to me when shit goes sideways."

"Great. Sounds great," Alex snipped, puffing her chest a little as she eyed Mae's grouchy friend, watching her leave the restroom. "Y'know, maybe if you didn't shove your 'help' down people's throats, you might get somewhere."

_She's just like Clarissa, _Alex thought to herself._ Just like Jonas. No wonder Mae's frustrated with her, can't say I blame them. So what, her mom died? So did Chloe's dad, so did my brother, you don't see __**us **__trying to tell everyone else how to live their lives...URGH, why do people have to get all self-righteous about this shit?_

Standing by herself as the door slowly closed, the weight of the tension she'd just endured fell off Alex's shoulders, leaving her body shaking more than she'd like. She'd snuck in one of her Joy pills while on the stall, but it hadn't kicked in yet. Might've explained her explosive reaction?

No, whatever, screw that, screw _her, _who did she think she was, shoving herself in like that? Goddess, Mae was _right, _that woman was nosy, and-...and _pushy, _and grumpy, and judgy, and...-

Alex was _jolted _by the hip, her heart skipping a beat until she realized it was just her phone.

( From: Ren )-  
( Hellloooooo )-

Alex's nose wrinkled. It was her childhood friend, Ren. Like, _way back _childhood friend. More recently, though, they'd been drifting apart. Like everyone _else _in Alex's life. The two of them were just a bit too different now, was what Alex had decided.

More text from him.

( You're not dying in some alleyway with a needle in your arm, are you? )-  
( If you are, well, by all means, continue! )-  
( But otherwise, would you get BACK TO ME? )-  
( Your dad is starting to bother me as if I know what you're up to. )-  
( And big-brother Jonas keeps trying to pry for details )-  
( Well, joke's on them, because you're being as much a jerk to me as anyone! )-

Alex decided to respond for the first time in weeks.

-( Maybe I WILL go die in an alleyway, all right? )  
-( At least then I won't have to listen to anyone telling me what to do! )

Ren came back with,  
( Thank Vaati, she SPEAKS. )-  
( Glad you're alive, anyway. )-  
( I'm not telling you to do anything )-  
( other than, I don't know )-  
( to stop being an insufferably insecure jerk? )-  
( Like that crap you pulled with Nona? )-  
( YOU KNOW how long I waited to make a move )-  
( and you just PULL THE RUG under me like that? )-  
( Not cool, Alex. )-  
( Not to mention the other things you said that night. )-  
( But look )-  
( I'm willing to let bygones be bygones )-  
( write that off as some kind of panic attack induced fit )-  
( if you could just explain to me what the f is going on? )-

Alex huffed through her nose as she concluded,  
-( Look, you want to know what I need right now? )  
-( How about space? )  
-( That ever occur to you? )  
-( You brag about how long you've known me )  
-( But you can NEVER tell what I actually need. )  
-( And enough with the guilt trips over Nona. GODDESS )  
-( It's not MY fault you didn't have the guts to go for it. )  
-( You want to feel like a fucking man? Then grow a pair. )  
-( Linksake, Ren seriously )  
-( just leave me alone for once )

Her eyes steaming at the verge of tears that didn't make any _sense, _Alex saw that ( . . . ) of a reply forming.

She quickly accessed her contacts list and blocked Ren's number before his response came through.

She was so fucking done with everyone.

Stuffing her phone back away, she stole a look at her reflection in the mirror. Alex's eyes looked so red.

She sniffed, rubbing her face through the sleeve of Michael's old letter jacket she insisted on wearing. Sighing in spite of herself, Alex washed her face, dried it with a paper towel, and prepared to-...

_EESH, _her phone again!

What the _hell, _was Ren trying to-...?

Oh. 

She'd gotten an IM from Sandra, the only person she had notifications turned on for her Beyonder app. She'd been trying to avoid using it on her phone too much, but...she couldn't help herself, Sandra was actually replying. Consistently. With interest? Possibly?

( Greetings, dear Alex. ;) I've yet to hear from you this evening. )-  
( Those strangers didn't spirit you away, did they? )-

-( Oh, hey, Sandy. ;P )  
-( I'm fine, I'm out with those guys right now, actually. )  
-( You're not WORRIED about me, are you? )

( Ha, I'd hardly say that...Though I do reserve the right to worry. )-  
( You seemed aloof about this social encounter this morning. )-  
( With pastries? And strangers? )  
( I felt obligated to check in on you. )-  
( Social courtesies and all. You understand. )-

-( Heh. Aha, I see. )  
-( You don't trust pastries, huh? )

( No further than I can throw them. )-  
( Pastries are a despicable force. )-

-( Oooookay. So you were more upset about pastries. )  
-( You had me going for a sec there. )  
-( I was afraid you might've caught a bad case of feelings for a fellow human being. )

( A fellow human being? )-  
( Dear Alex, you presume too much. ~(˘▾˘~) )- _Ha, and a weird little emoji, here?_

Alex couldn't let herself miss a single opportunity to interact with the fascinating woman.

Er. _Was _Sandra a woman? Shit. Alex hadn't even, like, _thought _to ask about that, she just...assumed? Why did it feel like she _knew, _somehow? Not just from the name. Maybe just the way Sandra carried herself? _Them_self? Fuck. Now it was bugging Alex.

Actually, why not? She'd just ask, you know?  
Had to make it not weird, though...

-( Mm, you know, that's actually a good point. )  
-( You could be an alien, for all I know. )  
-( You're a person, at least, clearly. That's good enough for me. )

( If you insist. )-  
( You are the Reader here, after all. )-  
( As such, you dictate the interpretation of things. )-  
( A writer does not mandate how their words are taken. )-  
( Such a pursuit is pointless. )-

-( Well, hey, whoa, now. )  
-( That's not a good blanket statement. )  
-( Not when we're talking about you as a PERSON. )  
-( I hadn't thought to ask but while we're on the subject... )  
-( What kind of person do you, like )  
-( want to be referred to? )  
-( I mean re:gender? )

( I meant what I said, O Thoughtful one. )-  
( Though I am hardly surprised by your inquiries. )-  
( I am quite used to being told what I am, what I am good at, good for... )-  
( Truthfully, such matters are of no import, given my circumstances. )-  
( Refer to me in any manner you deem fitting. )-

-( What do YOU deem fitting? )  
-( I'm serious. )  
-( That sounds hard, having to play along with how others want to define you. )  
-( But this isn't that. So tell me. )  
-( Please? )

( Persistently curious, as anticipated. ;) )-  
( In a previous life, I was indeed a woman, as you no doubt have presumed. )-  
( Much around me has changed since then, though I have remained much the same. )-  
( I still try to look the part, when the situation calls for it. )-  
( Though I savor the thought of you viewing me as such, now that I dwell on it. )-

-( Uh )  
-( So what pronouns are we talking, here? )

( It seems I'm not writhing my way out of this question, am I? )-

-( If you're not sure what you want, I mean )  
-( fuck I'm sorry I didn't mean to pressure you into this )  
-( forget I bothered you with it I just didn't want to assume anything )

Alex's fingers were hasty as her chest tightened with anxiety, her head beginning to float as she could feel the Joy starting to kick in, depriving her of precious enthusiasm in the one moment this entire day when she most wanted to hold onto it.

-( Refer to me as you would any woman, dear Reader. )  
-( And I shall continue to return the gesture in kind, if you wish. )

Hm. So maybe Sandra was...-? Well, no, Alex wasn't even going to fuss over that, it wasn't her identity, it wasn't even technically her business. What mattered was what Sandra wanted, how she wanted to be perceived, referred to, treated, all of that.

-( Sure. I think I can handle that. )  
-( Thanks for telling me. )  
-( And yea, that sounds good. )  
-( It's crazy, we've never met, I still don't know what you even look like, but )  
-( I dunno, I feel like this connection like we get each other? )

( It is almost as though appearances matters little in the ways of forging bonds. )-  
( ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ ) )-

A bit of that pressure leaked out through Alex's ears with a deep exhale, and she suddenly realized how heavy her eyelids were, how hot her cheeks had become as she found herself wondering what kind of woman Sandra was in real life. In person, rather.

-( It's almost as though. )  
-( Come to think, you're really not big on appearances, are you? )

( You could certainly phrase it as such. )-  
( I suppose I once was. )-

-( In 'another life,' right? )

( Indeed. )-  
( If I insist on attempting to remember, it was

**"Alex."******

"Gugh-!" She banged her elbow on the paper towel dispenser, bumped the back of her head against the ceramic-tiled wall, and nearly dropped her phone, all in a panic at the sudden intrusion into what she was used to having as a private experience from the comfort of her continually un-made bed.

"Whoa." It was Max who had entered the bathroom, and her furrowed brows conveyed her suspicion and concern. "Are you _feeling _all right?"

"_Yea, _no, I-..." Alex's jaw hung for a moment as her intense stare tried to deflect Max's softer but more focused expression. "Got lost in my...phone, and...-" She wriggled her device a bit before doing what felt unthinkable: ignoring Sandra. Putting the phone back in her jacket. Pretending like the people she was here with could hope to make her feel as welcomed and valued and this seemingly random internet stranger-turned-companion did.

"Beatrice said you were feeling sick?" Max probed cautiously. "You've..._been _in here a while."

Max watched as Alex nodded, shrugged, shook her head, took in a deep breath, closed her eyes...and sighed out slowly, putting her hands into her jacket's pockets.

Hm. Alex _was _acting odd. Had something happened? Maybe all of that family drama was getting to her? Max could imagine the stress of unemployment stacked on top wasn't helping. She could recall back when Chloe had been without work, and how that tension had piled up over time.

"Needed some air," Alex explained in a calm, dull manner unlike her. In this instant, beneath the bright light of the bathroom, the bags hanging under Alex's eyes were more apparent than they had been.

"All right," conceded Max after an awkward hangup, their eyes locked onto one another. "Um...-"

_Since when is a bathroom a good place to get-_

Max's thought was interrupted as Alex approached, heading out of the bathroom without a word. Max instinctively stepped aside to allow Alex passage.

"_Oop-!_" Chloe could be heard blurting out in reaction to nearly bumping straight into Alex. "Sorry there, dude," she mumbled, leaning herself into the door as she let Alex slip past.

"Eh," Alex uttered in reply, making her way out to the shop's dining area.

Max watched Chloe's apologetic expression melt into baffled irritation as soon as Alex was gone, and that expression twisted itself toward Max. After the bathroom door closed behind her, Chloe asked, "The fuck is _her _deal all a sudden?"

Max shrugged, shaking her head tiredly as she theorized, "Something must be going on, she was hypnotized by her phone."

Max went about inspecting herself in the mirror, and Chloe leaned up against her from behind.

Damn. Max kind of looked like shit, herself. Her hair was looking frayed and matted, her freckled cheeks looked pale, her eyeshadow was smudged a bit, her lip stick was-  
"_Dude, _stop."

Chloe had insisted this in her soothing way.

Chloe could sense Max's stressing, and her soft insistence to cool that down was welcoming, as was the warm sensation of Chloe leaning against Max's back. Chloe had rested her chin on Max's shoulder, and was staring back at her through the mirror in front of them. Max's hips were gripped within Chloe's frisky fingers, her thumbs rubbing at the edges of Max's hip bones in a slow, encouraging way.

"Sorry," Max murmured, pushing strands of loose hair behind her ears. "The whole point of this was to help, you know, integrate Alex into our group a bit. I don't know all of what's going on with her, but I can just...-" Max tightened a hand up against her stomach. "-..._feel _like she's slipping? Somehow? I can't explain it, but...-"

"Nah, nah, I feel ya," Chloe gently assured. "You help people, it's what you do, who you are. I ain't stoppin' that."

Max pressed her weight slightly backward, against her wife, and let her head tilt to the side, propping her skull up against Chloe's. They continued to stare at each other through their reflections.

"Especially these days," Max wistfully rambled, "I'm just wondering if I'm going about things the right way. If I'm doing more harm than good. If I'm...holding you back, or...-" Max's eyes averted themselves away from Chloe's.

"What? _Fffs, _dude. No. Nah. Nuh-uh." Chloe ran her hands up and down Max's arms. With her jacket off, the friction against her skin produced a tingle. "Look, I know we thought we'd-a made it outta this town by now? But it's fine. We're gettin' by. We're reconnecting with folks, we're, ya know, we're figuring shit out. I ain't in no rush to leave Arcadia at this point, anyway. I mean." Her tone went dryly sour. "Not like we have much choice."

Well. _That _was true.

Max let Chloe go on, recovering from her pessimism.

"Point is, Bebb, I got _you. _That's all I need. Doesn't matter where the roof over our head is, long as we're both under it, right?"

Max took in a pondering breath through her nose and nodded as she exhaled. The dumb smile on Chloe's face elicited a matching one from Max.

"I'm all tied up in this...-" Max's eyelids fluttered as the very _thought _of what Officer Nora had her looking into filled her chest with dread. "-...crazy _nonsense_. I barely get to _see _you anymore, now that we're both working. I'm losing it a bit, Chloe."

Her wife gave her a kiss on the cheek, nuzzling her nose against Max's neck as she whispered, "Keep hangin' in there, Maxie. We just gotta catch up on things, n' then you can take it easy for a while."

"I wish it were that simple," Max lamented, "but I dunno..."

"Know what _is _simple?" Chloe slyly taunted, carefully nudging Max to spin round by tugging at her hips. With Max turned toward her, Chloe hung her arms across Max's shoulders, leaned in, and kissed her on the lips.

It was a delightful sensation after the day Max had endured, and she knew it would be short lived, so she savored it. After a minute or so of intimacy, an eruption of laughter could be heard from the lobby behind them, muffled by the bathroom door.

"We should, um...-" Max cleared her throat, easing herself off of Chloe. Running her index finger across Chloe's chest and toying with the necklace of bullets dangling from Chloe's neck, Max nodded in a meandering way, trailing off with a timid smile.

Grinning with narrowed eyes and flushed cheeks, Chloe wiped her wrist against her wetted lips, and shrugged in acknowledgment.

"Let's head back out there, yea," Chloe agreed with a light bob of her head. She gave Max's cheek one last stroke, concluding their moment with a light pat and a playful pinch on Max's chin. The pair snickered slightly, sliding their hands together as they exited the bathroom.

While approaching the table, Max scanned Alex briefly – the woman had her cheeks puffed up as she chewed, slouched back in her chair with her arms still jammed in her pockets. Her eyes were glazed over and she was staring off into space toward the store's parking lot out front.

"-like, _growled _at me, like he was trying to..._talk? _I guess?"

"A _possum_?"

"I _swear _this trash mammal was smarter than he looked."

"And Germ just..._keeps _this furry lil' guy around?"

"I guess?"

"Why would you name a possum 'Rabies?' Possums are actually fairly _resistant_ to rabies."

"This _is_ Germ we're talking about..."

"Good point, that guy is a fuckin' _trip, _I once saw him use a spatula to-...Oh, hey!" Gregg caught Max and Chloe as they reached the table and took their seats. "There some kinda _party _goin' on in that bathroom I'm missing out on?"

"Totes," Mae instantly confirmed, nodding. "Real rager in there, did some lines, got a blow-job, gave someone _else _a_ hand_-job, real fun times." Eyelids sagging facetiously, Mae beamed with a childish glint in their smile.

Max puffed out an incredulous laugh through her nose and watched Beatrice's eyes droop tiredly.

Chloe thumbed toward the bathroom, citing, "_Oh, _yea, why else ya think Alex spent so long in there?"

But when Chloe shot Alex a snarky look, she received...no reaction. Just that same glazed over look as Alex swallowed, then plucked another donut hole from the box in front of her. She wasn't even..._looking _at them, just...eating. Chloe could tell – Alex must've taken one of those pills recently or something...

See, that drug Alex was on was called 'Joy,' right? But those 'happy pills' actually pretty much did the opposite of making someone feel joyful. They might give somebody a burst of energy for a bit, but pretty quickly after they'd just...kinda numb out, you know? Whole reason Alex had gotten hooked on the stuff was 'cuz of her family drama and college and everything.

It was pretty easy to think she was helping the chick out with her anxiety or whatever when Alex was, like..._not _around Chloe, really? But now, seeing her all messed up from the stuff, up close, in _this _kinda setting, oof, yikes, it, erh...put a few things in context, didn't it?

"She _take _something?" Beatrice accused in her usual, judgmentally hushed kind of way.

"_Whew._" Chloe tried to play it off and keep the pressure off Alex, referring to Mae's jokes about the bathroom being a 'rager.' Chloe flashed her best trying-to-look-casually-calm-and-confident smile. Max was the only one who'd be able to read such a look, but thankfully she seemed suddenly occupied by her phone. "She _does_ look like she is on _somethin', _all right. _Ha._ Where can I get _me _some o' that? Eh? Huh?"

"Oh," Mae blurted, their eyes flashing with earnest. "I mean, it's just that stuff you hooked her up with, but _yea, _looks like it really packs a punch, huh?"

_whaaaaatttt the fuck is you doing maeeeee?_

"_AHAHA_!" Chloe burst out, pounding her fist on the table – a little too roughly.  
_Say something so stupid none of this will make sense do it now right now say it say  
_"Y-Yea, snortin' lines of Eternity Sauce _does_ things to a gal, don't it?"

Chloe laughed some more, tapping Max with the back of her wrist, but keeping her eyes locked on Mae to confirm _the shit outta this _because Mae needed to **maybe not fucking give them away?**

Max and someone else (Gregg prolly) laughed a bi – still staring at her phone, huh? – and Mae just sheepishly shrugged and nodded, their eyes glinting with a sort of _'oh fuck oops' _while Chloe was more like _'YEA fuck oops'._

And then – very suddenly, and with a forceful _smack _of her hands against the table – Alex got up.  
Alex walked away from the table, wordless.

"Uh..." Chloe uttered, gawking.

"Alex?" Mae prodded, for once actually seeming worried.

Leaving the group baffled, Alex headed-...Oh.  
Oh, she was just going to the...counter. Ordering something?

"What is _with _her today?" Max grumbled, leaning against Chloe as she stared at Alex's back across the shop. "Does anyone know what happened?"

Chloe shrugged stiffly, her eyes darting to Mae, whose lips pursed nervously.

"_You're _the detective, here," Bea pointed out dryly – and with a wry little smirk. She cast a suspicious side-glance aimed squarely at Mae as she let her statement linger, chomping into a chariot wheel donut.

"_Mm_," Gregg hummed out affirmatively. "Yeaaa, good point, maybe you should get to sleuthin'."

"Dig up her _dirt_," Mae snickered. "Skeleton the heck outta her closet."

"_What...?_" Max blurted, twitching out a confused head shake.

Why had this been spun back around Max? She wasn't _at _work, and why should she be 'sleuthing' on her friends? The whole point of a social life here was to _not _be suspecting people at every turn. 

"_Haaa, _they're just messin' with ya, Bebb," Chloe assured, rubbing Max's back.

Max, still distracted by her phone, tried to give her company a quick run-down with her eyes, but the results were inconclusive. Gregg and Angus were muttering something hushed to each other. Mae was needlessly breaking apart a chariot wheel into small pieces and trailing them across the table between herself and Beatrice, who was in turn giving Mae a nasty stink eye they were oblivious to.

"My family hates me."

Everyone's attention was halted and rerouted to Alex, who was standing in front of her pulled-up chair at the table's edge. She had blurted out this phrase in a very matter-of-fact way, and was holding a small black sauce cup in her hand with a dull-eyed, defiant look to her.

Setting the cup down beside her box of donut holes, Alex huffed hot air as she dropped herself into her seat.

Something was _definitely _off with her, Max knew that much. Had they said something wrong? Put her in a bad mood? Or something had happened while she'd been in the bathroom, some kind of family drama? That had to be it.

"Um..." Max tried to reply to such a boldly disparaging statement. "Alex, I don't...think that-"  
"I sat on my ass and watched my brother drown," Alex spat with a nonchalant shrug.

Alex sniffed, rubbing at her nose with her wrist as she used the other hand to pick up a donut hole and plunk it into the cup of brown sauce she'd retrieved. _Blech,_ Eternity Sauce? Why?

"What?" Bea prodded, taking the bait Alex had laid out.

"Yuh-huh, yea," Alex insisted, slack-jawed as she nodded. "_Hoh, _yea." She popped the sauced donut hole into her mouth, continued to talk with one half of her mouth as the other chewed. "Juff _ffat _theh. Wahfshim die fro'uh me." She swallowed, pounded her chest with her palm and continued, plucking another 'Bark Bite' and dipping it. "So, yea. My parents lost the one kid who had their shit together because the _other_ one didn't, n'...-" She shrugged again, speaking of all of this as if it didn't concern her one iota. It was unnerving. "Divorffd," she said through her eating.

Max read the room. Chloe had become very sullen. Angus looked mortified. Gregg looked confused. Beatrice looked irritated, for some reason? And Mae...was just eating the trail of donut pieces they'd made as if none of this was going on.

Alex rambled further, dunking another piece of pastry in the potent brown sauce she was eating like it was nothing. The further she rambled, the more covered in Eternity Sauce the piece became.

"My dad can't stand to be around me, my mom is a heartbroken mess who remarried because she was desperate to be anything but alone, and I mean, _ha, _well, _I _sure as hell couldn't help with her that, and my clueless step-brother keeps trying to pull this 'big-brother' thing with me when I've made it pretty clear I want none of it, and...-"

Alex's eyes went wide as she paused, realizing she'd dipped the donut piece so much it was not only totally submerged, but she'd gotten sauce all over her fingers. Her expression waned back into a dull stupor as she nodded, propping her lower lip out. She then ate the thing, licking the disgustingly strong sauce from her lips, coughing as she did so.

"Farore," Gregg sighed out, shaking his head. "That really sucks, dude."

"_Ha_, ah-haha," Alex laughed, tossing her head back as she wiped her fingers on a napkin. "_Ahhhh_...Yea, sorta does, huh? I'm hot garbage, _so._"

"Don't _say _that," Max insisted. She could feel her phone going off. Shit. She knew who it was. Had to make them wait a minute, though. "You-...You're dealing with a _lot_."

"_Ffff_," scoffed Alex, slapping her stomach as her head rolled around on her neck. "_Am _I dealing with it? With _any _of it?" She was _smiling. _Shaking her head. Smiling. It was kind of creepy.

"Alllllexxxxx," Mae said slowly, loudly, pushing aside everyone else's obvious worries. "Youuuu maybe need a night out, huh? Yea?"

Alex fluttered her lips and offered up the same shrug she'd kept doing.

"Sure. I mean. Like I got anything _better _to do..."

"Yea, OK! All right!" Mae flicked up their hands, gauging everyone's interest in this prospect. "Night out? Everybody?"

Gregg mumbled out, "_Ehh, _I got work, remember?"

"Me, too," Angus said.

"At _night_?" Mae puffed at Angus.

To which Angus clarified, "Some big maintenance going on with our servers, a whole new department is settling in."

"_Bahhhh_," Mae groaned, tossing out their hand. "What about you, Bee-Bee?"

"My dad needs me," Bea flatly declined. "Plus? I just...need a night to myself, to be honest. I'm _here, _right now, aren't I? Isn't that enough?"

Mae's eyes flickered with disappointment at Bea's dismissal. And then they looked to Max and Chloe.

"Oh, no, I-" Max started.  
"Dude, hella yes," Chloe decided, snapping her fingers and pointing at Alex. "_That's _what you need, Alex. I mean, damn, _we _could use some R-and-R, too, amirite?" She slapped her hand against Max's thigh beneath the table, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Chloe, I...-"  
"I got a shift at work, though," Chloe remembered, her excitement getting the better of her. "But, _ooh,_ I can, like, meet up with ya'll after that? I mean, _yea, _ya'll will be out late, right?"

"Sure," said Alex, dunking another piece of donut into that weird sauce as she pulled out her phone. "Whatever works."

Gregg was preoccupied with his own phone, too, and was sneaking peeks of it to his boyfriend inbetween the conversation.

"_Wowwww, _Alex," Mae wheezed, "Yer actually gonna _go_?" Cheeks in their palms, elbows to the table, Mae squinted skeptically at Alex, pondering, "You _up _for this?"

Alex nodded plainly, her expression dim, eyes locked to her phone.

Max's phone was buzzing again. Damnit. They were trying to be social, but everyone was getting sucked in by their devices.

"Uh, I...-" Max pulled hers out of her pocket, its vibrations evident. "I gotta take this," she cited warily, nudging Chloe to let her out.

"Aw, _what?_" Chloe winced."Work stuff? Again?"

"It's important, Babe," Max sighed, fluttering her wrist outward to gesture Chloe to move. Please?

"'S _always _important," mumbled Chloe dubiously, shoving herself out of the booth to make way for her wife. "Work-work-work..."

"Makes the world go round," Bea pointed out between bites of her donut.

"Heh, right," placated Max, awkwardly scurrying herself outside to take her call. Something seemed off with Beatrice, too, but Max hadn't been in touch with her lately, so...who even know?

( Call from. . . )  
( **NORA** )

Max swept her bangs off to one side, out of her eyes. She took a deep breath, then exhaled as she swiped the call on.

"Hello?" Max spit out hastily, rounding the building to its backside as she spoke.

[ "_There _you are," ] Aloy sighed with some relief. [ "I was worried something was going on." ]

"Social call," Max explained simply. "Sorry."

[ "Oh-...N-No, no, I get it. Everyone deserves to live their own life..." ]

"Um. Right, they do." Max was standing in front of a garbage dumpster, the afternoon light blinding her a bit as it reflected off of a coin sitting on the tarmac. "Living their own lives – that's exactly why we need to find these people."

[ "Oh, erh-...Yea. Of course." ]

"So. What's the next step?"

[ "Huh?" ]

"The reason...you called?"

[ "_Oh. _Yea. I, uh-...Yea." ] Nora spoke briefly to someone else, muffling her phone for a few seconds. [ "Right, sorry. So! What you sent me – I think it's worth looking into that restaurant." ]

"The one our suspect works at," Max checked, trying to be vague while on the phone, but referring to Miss Rachel Amber. Max had done some research the night before and had pinned down where Rachel seemed to make a living. It couldn't be a coincidence that it was the same place one of their missing girls had used to work at. Rachel had to know _something._

[ "Exactly. You said they're on the schedule for today?" ]

"Mm-hm," hummed Max in confirmation. "Based on what I found, yea."

[ "And you think you can get some info out of her without causing a scene?" ]

"I do."

Public place? On the clock? Max felt confident she could find some kind of opening, catch Miss Amber off guard, squeeze something out.

Officer Nora decided, [ "If I send you payment tonight, could you make sure you look into it? As in...today?" ]

Max sniffed, the cold winter air already causing issues for her nose.

They could use the money, of course. Max hadn't been receiving work from any other clients for weeks, now. Aloy was all she currently had. Chloe's job at the auto shop was nice but it wasn't enough to support them by itself. Max needed the work. If she turned down her most loyal customer during a time that sounded dire – and Aloy had made it pretty apparent how dire this was – then Max could kiss her paycheck good-bye.

"Uhhh, _yea. _Sure, I can make that work."

[ "Great. Send me a quote before you leave and then invoice me tonight, I should be able to cover it as long as it's the usual rate." ]

"Right. Yea, no problem. We'll get to the bottom of this."

[ "As long as we keep it up, I know we will." ]

"I'll update you soon."

[ "Thanks, Max." ]

"Mm-hm."

Max ended the call, her phone arm sagging tiredly as she-  
_FUCK WHAT-?!_

Oh. It was Chloe, standing right behind her.  
Snuck up on her! What the hell?

Giving Chloe a distraught but gentle shove, Max hissed out in vain: "Daphnes _Hyrule, _Chloe! You scared the _shit _out of me!"

Chloe's eyes withered with irritation as she shrugged defensively, citing, "Maybe if you weren't _hiding _in the garbage when we're supposed to be hanging out with people..."

Tucking her phone away and scratching at her eyebrow, Max palmed her forehead, wiping her hand down across her face as a groan drizzled out.

"It's _work _stuff, Babe. I _have _to take care of it."

"Uhhhh, _no? _You don't? Ain't that the whole reason _I _got a job, too?" Chloe was flinging her wrists back and forth between the two of them. "We're _both _banking bread, here, so we-"  
"No one says that."  
"We're _both _breading the table, so-"  
"_Ahem._"  
"Bread-...Breadmaking?"

"Just-...Just nevermind." Max laughed a little at Chloe's slip up, gesturing her wife to cut to the chase.

"We're both _working _so we can afford to spend time together. That was the whole point, wasn't it?"

Max rubbed sand out of her eye, nodding half-heartedly.

Chloe grabbed Max by the shoulders, repeating insistently, "_Wasn't _it?"

"Y-Yea, all right. I get it."

"So tell work to fuck off, then."

Max knew she couldn't do that.

People's lives could be in danger, here. The police were so occupied with the bombings and the problems they were causing, they didn't have the resources to look into every missing person case. But these were two missing girls, now, and it could become _more _missing people if they didn't get to the bottom of it, and soon.

What had Chloe said in the bathroom?

That Max just 'helped people,' that it was what she did, who she was.  
Why was it when she happened to be getting paid to do it, professionally, that Chloe didn't accept that?

"Look, why don't we, like...go get dinner together?" Chloe offered out of the blue. "Huh? Date night."

"What about work?" Max reminded her of her impending shift at Lindholm.

"_Pfff, _OK, so, like...Linner, then."

Max's eyes blinked, aghast at Chloe's phrasing.

Chloe clutched Max's hands within her own, specifying, "Dunch? Linner? I dunno, it's like brunch but with lunch and dinner. Dinch? Lunner?"

Max puffed a chuckle through her nostrils, her lips formed into an 'O' shape, and she nodded slowly, patronizing her adorkable wife.

"Donuts don't count at lunch?" Max teased, pouting her lips.

"_Hell _naw, that's, like...-" Chloe leaned in, kissing Max on the mouth, reading her mind. Without skipping a beat: "-...second breakfast."

"Uh-_huh_," Max played along. All the while, her brain had schemed the perfect plan. "Well...All right, date meal, then. There's...actually a place I've been meaning to visit for a while now..."

"Oh?" Chloe hung on Max's words as she watched Max pull out her phone, scrolling around to look up an address.

Max typed into her search bar,  
( The Downside, Arcadia ) 

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

[ "Breathe. Simply breathe. Let nothing cling upon your soul. Shed your current self of present concerns." ]

Aloy did as instructed as best she could, sucking in a slow, deep breath. Her lungs seized up, and she coughed and sputtered on her own spit. This stuff _always _proved difficult. But, like any other task, she would get it right if she kept at it.

[ "Free your mind," ] the voice before her instructed.

Hands folded in her lap, thumb-tips touching, Aloy kept her eyes closed, recovered from her coughing fit, and tried again.

She had to _not _try, right? That was the key. Just...like taking a nap, almost, while sitting upright.

Some time passed, but time felt like an illusion when trying to enter a meditative state.

There was a certain relief that came from the stillness. She let it wash over her, like gentle sunlight caressing a field of flowers. A light breeze swept across, petals dancing against her fingertips.

His voice – _its _voice? – like a distant echo across this mountainous vista of her imaginings.

_[ "__**Experience tranquility...**__" ]_

The sun set before her.

The flowers she stood within lit up, each petal a light. Aloy realized the flowers formed the pattern of a triangle, with herself at the center. It was beautiful, yet unnatural, simultaneously. Manufactured? Created? But blended seamlessly with the beauty around her. As she slowly spun, observing the harsh angles of the the flower field's triangular pattern, she heard a voice.

[ "I guess...-" ]

Her own voice? Aloy's _own _voice?

[ "-...I would've wanted..._her_...to be...-" ]

The voice was whispering in her right ear – exclusively.

[ "-...**curious.**" ]

_**AUGH OW WHAT**_

_**Felt **_**as if** a lightning bolt had been fired into her ear, causing a sudden overload of intense pain and shock._****_

Her eyes _snapped _wide open as the sharp stinging shot through her skull from her right temple. Aloy clawed at the source, tearing out-...Her earpiece. Oh, had she...left that on during all this?

Grunting as the aching subsided as quickly as it had overwhelmed her, Aloy found herself where she had been: in a patient room, staring at a tablet screen, speaking with her...therapist.

Staring at the earpiece in her hand – the one her mother had supposedly gifted her – she could feel her fingers trembling, her body still recovering from the startling shock.

That..._girl. _In the alleyway from before, the one with the red jacket and the teal hair.  
That _ghost_, more like.  
This pain, just now, it felt exactly the same as that moment, when Aloy had seen that 'ghost,' or whatever it was.

[ "Hm...There is _disquiet _in your soul." ]

"Ha-..." Aloy panted out warily, trying to suppress and hide this unsettling sensation she'd just experienced. "Yea, you, uh-...You could _say _that."

[ "You went somewhere," ] he noted. [ "Tell me: _where _did you go?" ]

"Erh-..." Aloy tried swallowing the sudden lump that had formed in her throat, but failed. "I'm not..._sure_, it...-" She tried to swallow it down again, succeeding this time. "It was almost like a dream."

[ "Describe what you felt." ]

"I don't...-" Aloy's shoulder tensed up, and she trailed off into a sigh. How could she take this thing seriously? It was like...some kind of robotic _face, _animating and interacting with her through a _screen. _Argh, maybe rude to keep thinking of him as an 'it,' though, huh? She couldn't help it, he was...a _machine._

[ "Miss Nora?" ]

"Sorry, Sir, it's...a bit difficult to pinpoint...-"

[ "You appeared to be in pain." ]

"Wh-? _Oh, _no, my, um...-" She held up her earpiece to the camera on the tablet. "I forgot to take this off, it's been...acting up lately, and...-" She shook her head, dismissing the matter against her gut and tucking the device into a breast pocket. "It, erh, malfunctioned, sent out a static shock or something. Well. Should I...try again?"

She tried to read his expression. But, uh...funny thing...He was exceptionally good at hiding what he was thinking, being some kind of artificial intelligence and all.

[ "There is chaos within you today. Chaos you do not wish to confront. I worry it will only cause more harm, were I to attempt to force you to face it. Let us conclude today's session early." ]

"...Oh." Not that she was going to complain. In a way, this...honestly all felt like a waste of time. "I, um-...If you're _sure, _I mean...-"

[ "It is not _my _decision," ] he cryptically answered. Ah, he was...doing that sort of 'shrink' thing, wasn't he? Trying to make her feel like this was _her _fault, or something. Maybe some truth to that – she didn't want to come to these sessions, anyway. Especially when she had so much work to do.

"Um...Right," Aloy eked out awkwardly, getting up from the pillow on the floor, taking the tablet up with her. "W-Well, I appreciate you trying, anyway."

[ "Haha. It was _you _who made a more earnest attempt than ever. I could sense it." ]

Kindaaaaa creepy, he was dead-on. She'd never managed to lose herself quite so much in any of their sessions thus far. If anything, up until this moment, she'd found any attempts at meditation to be pointless.

"Right," she replied simply, her brows furrowing a little as she gave him a smirk. "Well, should I...-?" She gestured her head toward the door.

The digital therapist nodded, his...face? Smiling? Maybe? It was a little hard to tell...

Aloy headed for the door, bidding, "I'll...see you in a couple days, then, Zen. Assuming I'm...-" She lowered her voice into a doubtful mumble beneath her breath. "-...still _working _here, which how much I'm fucking uh-..._er, _screwing up lately."

[ "Consider only victory. Make defeat an _impossibility_ in your mind." ]

As she opened the door, she paused at the robotic mentor's...oddly acute advice.

"Huh. That's...actually maybe exactly what I needed to hear," she considered aloud. "Thanks."

[ "Until next time, my student." ]

"Yea. 'Til next time."

Aloy hesitantly ended the video chat. It always...kind of worried her. He wasn't a real _person, _right? So, um, what _happened _to him when she turned him off like that? Where did he..._go? _Was it like taking a nap?

"Aloy," greeted Dr. Ziegler, still at her desk, working on...whatever she was occupied with on her computer. "You are...-" She gave Aloy a dubious brow-raise. "-...slightly _early_."

"Oh, right, yea." Aloy shrugged, placing the tablet face up on Angela's desk. "Zenyatta said...we were done? For the day?"

Ziegler's steady keyboard tapping slowed to a pause.

"Did he, now?" she checked, a healthy dose of skepticism about her.

"Yep," Aloy replied, hands on her hips with an innocent nod. "So, uh...guess it's time for me to...-"  
"Captain Amari called while you were in there," Angela primly informed, scribbling her signature on the form Aloy needed to bring to confirm her visit had transpired. "You should report to her office immediately."

"..._Oh._" Any relief Aloy had just found from leaving this session early wilted in an instant. "Did she mention why?"

Ziegler shook her head, her expression gaining a sort of...dry amusement as she handed the signed form to Aloy.

"Take care, Aloy," she said with her typical tired courtesy.

"You, too, Angela," Aloy replied, folding the form and tucking it in a breast pocket of her uniform. Offering a timid wave that went ignored, Aloy bid, "Have a good one." The Doc was already back at her computer, though, and seemed unfazed.

Hesitant, Aloy exited the office and made her way for Captain Amari's location.

Zenyatta's advice echoed through her mind.

"Consider only victory, huh?" Aloy mumbled to herself warily, scratching at her scalp as she navigated the wing's hall. Reaching the elevator, she bumped its 'up' button with the side of her fist, then leaned against the wall as she contemplated her circumstances.

She pulled out her phone.

( From: Lena )  
( Sorry Luv, on my way to doc appt. Remember? )

"_Agh_," Aloy grunted under her breath. She'd completely forgotten that Lena had an appointment with the doctor that evening. Aloy would have to follow up on their lead on her own.

She spoke to her device, voicing the text.

"Right, period. Sorry, comma, forgot, period..." She paused. The elevator behind her was descending. "I'll take care of it, comma, hope your check-up goes all right, period."

She hesitated.

"Love you, period."

It wasn't like some _huge _thing, but it was still...a bit of a step, getting herself to say the words out loud with regularity. Perhaps part of the reason _why _was because she had _crossed _that step multiple times, and while the purest sense of the word still _applied _to those people, there was always this frustrating sort of..._expectation _that preceded that phrase.

"We still on for dinner, comma, though, question mark?"

-_ding!_-

The elevator arrived, and before the doors were even open, Aloy could hear, quite clearly, the riotous laughter of Lieutenant Wilhelm, the colossal, jolly fool of a man. With a muscular, broad-shouldered form, beefy arms, and a grayed mane of hair and beard that looked straight out of a fantasy novel, Reinhardt Wilhelm was a man with intimidating looks but a unsurprisingly golden heart. He had a thick accent not prominent in the region, but of the same origin as Dr. Ziegler's, which, when combined with his enthusiastic flair for words, made him easy to recognize in a crowd.

"And _zen, _with him _clinging _to my back, _flailing _around as I managed to hold _steady, _he cried out in _alarm, _'I'm going to _fall_!' _Wah-ha._" Awkwardly, Aloy shuffled her way into the elevator, giving the Lieutenant and Erend – _oh, hey, hi? _– an unassuming wave as they exited."To this, I replied, 'Fall if you will _fall, _but me, I _**live **_for zees!'"

Wilhelm chuckled in spite of...whatever he was babbling about (sounded vaguely like some rodeo-related story Aloy had heard about three or four times now, herself). He then pounded a wary Erend on the back as he guided them onto the floor Aloy was leaving.

Erend shot Aloy a brief, sly expression that begged for rescue, but Aloy just smiled back, tight-lipped, waving as the elevator doors closed.

Resuming her phone check-in, Aloy checked in with her private eye, Max.

-( To: P. F. )  
"Hey, period. Find anything, question mark?"

She got her reply before her elevator reached its destination.

( From: P. F. )-  
( Not quite yet. )-  
( Just arriving on the scene. )-

Standing in line to be let in, Max was clasping her phone like a lifeline, tapping out this series of texts quickly.

The goliath woman in the police uniform guarding the entryway to the venue gave the pair a stiff nod. Her face was worn and stone-like, contrasting – or, maybe complimenting? – the thick braid of pale blonde hair running down her shoulder. She had a name tag that read { **JO **}.

As the couple whisked themselves inside past this 'Jo', Max received a response.

( From: Nora )-  
( Got it. Keep me posted please. )-

"Oh, _what_? Are you _working_?" Chloe whined, nudging Max's phone downward with a gentle but disapproving pout.

"_Sorry_, Chloe, I...-"  
"Buh-_raayyyykkk_-**kuh**," Chloe spat in a deep, soft groan, making Max shove her phone into her coat pocket. "_Break. _Buh-rayk. **Break.**"  
"OK, OK," Max conceded, leaving her phone alone.

Lifting her hands up, wrists out in surrender, with a wary smile, Max shot Chloe a pleading look.

"Break time," Max confirmed.

"Fuck _yea, _it is," Chloe jeered, rubbing her hand against Max's lower back and planting a kiss on her cheek.

Passing through the entryway, the pair marveled at the beautiful stained glass window mounted above, welcoming them to the venue. To their right, an open bar. To their left, a podium. Chloe took a semi-eager step toward the bar, but Max gently tugged her by the interlinked elbow, edging them toward the podium, and thus the tables.

The group in front of them was escorted away by a kindly man as they cleared the rustic entrance, greeted by a podium with a sign that read: { PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED }

The club before them was an interesting blend of a formal restaurant with a small concert hall. A stage at the front, and a classy, glossy black floor filled with all kinds of tables and seating arrangements. There was an 'inner semi-circle, raised slightly, surrounding the stage, featuring more elegantly styled furnishings. The 'outer semi-circle' was on ground level, and sported more standard-grade restaurant furniture. Max observed that around the outer edges of the restaurant's walls rested multiple circular stained-glass pieces, matching the aesthetic of the one they'd passed by, but depicting different shapes, colors, and symbols.

On stage, a gaunt-looking, melancholic band was performing a slow, meandering piece of instrumental music with acoustic strings as its center.

This was The Downside.

Marveling at the venue, Chloe asked, "Where'd you _hear _about this place, anyway? Looks pretty swank. Kinda...outside our usual thing, though."

"Oh, um, a client," Max semi-lied.

"Huh." Chloe nodded, seemingly impressed with the local. "Never been here." Her expression grew a layer of hesitation as she observed the environs, specifically the folk band on stage. "Feelin' a little...outside my element."

"It's, um-...I've heard it's more casual than it..._looks_," Max assured. "But I guess there's a VIP section, lot of high-rollers love hanging out here."

"Damn," Chloe murmured, leaning slightly to try and take a peak at said VIP section past the bar, veiled in intricately patterned curtains with a theme of constellations. "Like the 'haves' and the 'have-nots', huh?"

Soaking in the music as they waited to be seated, they observed the place.

A waiter passed by, shuffling along at a quick pace – they were dressed in pretty interesting attire. Almost...monk-like? Robes trimmed and fitted per individual. All of the employees seemed to have these robe-like garments of red with blue trim. Many of them were...even wearing white _masks? _Whoa, maybe this place...was a bit fancier than Max bargained for. She'd read that it was a bit 'av-ant-garde' but...-

Her mind instantly began to worry about costs, but her research had assured her that simplistic enough orders could be had. Apparently the place was backed by the regional president of Zaibatsu Corp, Mr. Volfred Sandalwood. Sort of a charitable, but-actually-for-tax-relief situation? Public works, philanthropy, that kind of deal. From the research Max had done, the locale was basically like his pet project, and he personally picked much of the musical talent that showed up, as well as the employees. Apparently a number of lost souls found new beginnings here in that regard. Which led Max to why they were here...-

"We, uh-..." Chloe seemed off-put. Nervous, even. This was _so _not her kind of joint. "We sure we wanna _do _this? Can we _afford _this hoity-toity place?"

"O-Oh, it-..." Max squeezed Chloe's hand reassuringly. "I can cover it – trust me, it-...it's only expensive if you _want _it to be."

Chloe shot Max a doubtful look which was countered with a excitable, pleading smile.

"Please?" said Max. "I've been _dying _to come here."

Chloe's hardened expression of doubt crumbled, giving way to a bashful smirk with quivering eyes.

"_Oooo_kay, okay," she eased bobbing her head uncertainly but with concession.

The pleasant-looking gentleman greeting customers at the door and guiding them to their seats came back to the entrance podium. He was a slender man with shaggy red hair, styled with a headband to look strangely formal despite its messiness. His caramel eyes had a certain soft edge to them, but also were a bit sunken in from exhaustion.

His name tag read: { **HEDWYN **}.

He paused, as if taken aback.

"Um..." He recovered quickly enough. But _something _was off. Did he...recognize them? Max did _not _recognize _him._ "Good afternoon," he said warmly with a courteous nod and a casual smile. Sheesh, even the stress-wrinkles on his face seemed soft and delicate somehow. "Welcome to The Downside. Table for two?"

"_Uh, _yea," Chloe spat. "A-Actually, ya know, this place-...I-I dunno, Max, not sure I'm...really feelin' this, and...-"

The man – this 'Hedwyn' – gave them a moment to sort themselves, looking awash with confusion. Max distinctly picked up some kind of...familiarity between him and Chloe.

"You, um, ya _sure, _Max?" Chloe eked out into Max's ear. "This, _heh, _this place, I'm not...-"

"Table for two, yes," Max said, elbowing Chloe with some alarmed confusion.

"A-All right! Well." Chloe's face turned stiff with annoyance. "Decided. I guess."

"So." Hedwyn let his furrowed-browed look convey his uncertainty for a moment. "You're...coming in, then."

"Yes, please. Yup. _Ha._" Chloe was scratching at her neck awkwardly as she laughed a _totally _fake laugh.

_Damnit, Chloe. Who is this? How do you know him?_

"Uh-...Well. Right this way, " said this 'Hedwyn' with a studiously elegant flourish of his entire form, guiding them inward. "Is this...your first time here?" he asked them as they followed.

Max was trying to shoot daggers into Chloe's head with her eyes, but Chloe was deftly dodging them.

"Yea, _definitely, _never been!" Chloe eked out, completely failing at making this look like a natural interaction with a stranger. "U-um, real..._fancy _place you've got here!" Max _did _intuit that Chloe had not, in fact, ever been here, though. But she _definitely _knew this man...Weird.

"I rather like it, myself," replied Hedwyn, without falter. At least _he _was good at this.

"What's with the windows?" Max asked.

"Mm?" Hedwyn rotated his head over his shoulder as they walked down an aisle of cushion-seated tables.

"The, um...-" Max began, pointing off toward the aforementioned stained-glass panels.

"_Ah,_" Headwyn's head redirected toward their destination, dodging a masked waitress carrying two bottles of wine.Max could _tell _it was a she, with the particular styling of her uniform and the way it seemed design to accentuate certain features, not to mention the manner with which they glided across the floor.

In the mere seconds of time she had to observe, Max scoped the server's name tag: { **PAMITHA **}. Well, _whoever _she was, shewas wearing a _mask, _with a hood,like most of the employees. Max was a bit distressed by all of these...fucking _masks. _It would make tracking her target _exceedingly _more frustrating than anticipated.

Then _again, _her suspicions were starting to the ignite, with the way Chloe was acting. Maybe Max wouldn't have to go about this quite so delicately, after all.__

"Those are handcrafted," Hedwyn said, regarding the stained-glass Max had asked about. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

Max hummed her approval, and Chloe just nodded hastily, stupidly, still avoiding Max's gaze.

With a certain coy joy to his tone, Hedwyn explained, "You could say they're here to honor pagan spirits watching over us."

_Pff. Yea, OK..._

No need to get Max wrong, she _did _kind of like the _idea _of such eldritch beliefs. That spirits still lingered on the surface of the world. Back in her teenage years, she used to _really _get into some of that hippy, spiritual stuff. But these days, she wasn't even sure if she believed in the Holy Hylian Trinity, let alone lesser goddesses or gods...

If the goddesses _did _exist, then why were they letting the _crazy, _fucked up kind of bullshit going on run rampant? Why were they letting people like Max _do _what they _did? _Was it just some game? She abhorred the idea of spirits, gods, _whatever, _tossing their whims at mortals like spaghetti on a wall and just...seeing what _stuck, _watching how it splattered, how it fell to the floor...The reason the three Goddesses appealed to Max's sensibilities was how they maintained balance with one another. If one went off kilter, the other two could bring them back in line. It was a pleasant thought, anyway. But Max suspected that reality did not abide by such delicate checks and balances.

Slightly delayed in reply to Hedwyn's 'pagan spirits' remark, Chloe belted out a wavering, _stupid _laugh. It was starting to piss Max off pretty badly, how her wife was acting.

"Th-The um, this _band,_" Chloe remarked as they were seated. "Maybe tell 'em it's a _Friday, _yea?"  
She wasn't _showing _it right then, but Max always pegged Chloe as more the 'Farore' sort. Courageous to a fault, and with that a certain...lack of foresight. That's what Nayru's guidance was for, right?

Hedwyn, grabbing a pair of menus from the table's edge and setting them before Max and Chloe, shot Chloe a wry smile.

"It's still afternoon," Hedwyn said. "You should see them at _night._"

Max could swear she saw Chloe's eye twitch at this remark.

"Please look over the menu while you wait," said Hedwyn. "Your server will arrive shortly."

"Yea, thanks," Chloe blurted, too quickly and too bluntly. "Later."

"Mm." Hedwyn chuckled softly, nodding as he strolled back to his podium with a newfound amusement.

Chloe swiftly opened the menu, flipping through its pages – it didn't really _have _any but _oof, _she was managing to make herself look busy with it.

"Who's _Hedwyn_?" Max inquired, not at all interested in this pathetic facade. She peeled off her jacket, setting it on the seat beside her.

"_Eh? _Wh-? Who...-?" Chloe's eyelids fluttered _oh-so-innocently, _what the hell _was _this?

"How do you know him?" Max asked calmly, keeping her frustrations contained. Taking off her hat and resting it over her jacket, Max folded her hands on the table, elbows out, eyes piercing at her wife's faltering expression. "_Mm?_"

"The _fuck, _Max, I don't...-?"  
"Chloe."

Chloe dropped her own 'mask,' as plainly invisible as it _looked _compared to these employees.

"_Uhhh, _we, um, we shouldn't stay here," Chloe grumbled, her eyes darting around cautiously. "I've never _been _here, and, uh, there's...maybe _reasons _for that? I didn't even know what the fuck the place was _called, _but, um, now I _know, _and, like, so...now I can..._never-come-here-again,_ ha! Haha..."

Wow, she was...kind of losing it a little. What the _hell?_

Oh, shit. Did-...Did Chloe _know, _then?  
Did she know that Rachel Amber was back in town? That Rachel was _here_?  
Whoever 'Hedwyn' was, Chloe knew him – yet clearly didn't know of this locale, specifically.  
But she knew Rachel was connected _to _Hedwyn. Thus, she had to have some notion that Rachel _could _be here, at least. Right? That made sense, didn't it?

As for Max, well...a little bit of innocent investigating had led Max to find out that Rachel was a _pretty _popular employee at this joint, aaaand a little bit of _not _so innocent investigating had confirmed that Rachel was approximately forty minutes into a shift.

But Max was doing this for _work, _she hadn't..._intended _to stumble upon this bullshit with Chloe by her side. It was like the Universe was taunting her, all over again, specifically spiraling her around Rachel fucking Amber, _all over again._

And Chloe _knew _Rachel was in Arcadia, and hadn't _said _anything to Max? Were they _talking _again? Max trusted Chloe as far as_...that _crap was concerned – they were wed, Rachel didn't pose that kind of risk to them anymore. But Rachel was..._never _up to anything good, and the fact that Max's lead on a _police investigation _had Rachel in her sights threw some shadows over where, exactly, Chloe had been spending her spare time when she went out 'with friends' recently, and what, _exactly, _she had been getting herself up to.__

A spark of indignant aggravation rustled Max's core, but it was immediately frozen over by the guilt of knowing _she _could have _just _as readily told Chloe about discovering Rachel's presence, herself.

They both had found out Rachel was back in Arcadia.  
They both at least had _some _idea of what she was up to, even.  
And neither of them had told the other.

That...was unsettling.

And yet, all the same, Max could maybe use this to her advantage. A complex knot just got loosened in an instant.

Their server arrived, dressed in a black robe with red highlights and trim, which suited the hood over her head nicely. She was wearing a mask over her eyes: red-painted wood with horns sprouting from it, and black streaks of face paint running down her cheeks from her eyes to her jaws. She was touting a name tag that read { **AMBER **}.

Max took figurative hold of that loosened knot and prepared to undo it in a single tug.

"_Good _afternoon, I'll be your...-"

The woman standing before them froze up instantly at the sight of Chloe. She turned to Max, briefly, then back to Chloe, who was wide-eyed and breathless.

'Amber' leaned over the table rather suddenly and hissed at Chloe from beneath her mask, "What in the _fuck _are you doing here?"

"I...did _not _know this...-" Chloe had shrunken back in her seat somewhat, and was fumbling her wrists around. "-...was the place where you _worked_."

"Are you Rachel?" Max demanded quietly.

That weirdly intimidating mask whirled in Max's direction. The bright, dangerous eyes within it flashed with caution.

"How does _she _know about me?" Rachel spat, implicating Chloe but glaring at Max all the while.

"I...-" Chloe choked, surprised herself that Max knew. But, come the fuck on, Max wasn't an idiot. She was a little disappointed in Chloe for thinking her _private eye _wife wouldn't figure this shit out, if she didn't already know beforehand.

"My _wife _doesn't keep secrets from me," Max blurted, barely keeping her demeanor at a customer-appropriate level. Her statement was obviously not true, given the...circumstances, but...-

"Oh_-hoh, _yea?" Rachel balked, keeping her tone likewise pin-pricking sharp but pristine. Rachel's eyes darted from within their hidey holes to Chloe, who was at a loss for words.

"..._Reunion~_Ha." _Almost _a loss for a words.

"_Pff_." Rachel shook her head slightly. "Guess now I see why Hedwyn sat your dumb-asses down _here, _so _I _could sort you out..." She added under her breath, "Useless _wimp, _never handles this shit himself..."

"Do you _all _fucking work here?" Chloe asked with some hushed alarm.

_'All?' All who?_

"Shut it," Rachel snipped. "I don't know what kind of game you two think you're playing, but I can tell you're not on the same page, so maybe you should leave before **I lose it.**"

"Missing girl," Max said sternly, cutting to the chase. If she didn't make a desperation move here, she might not get another chance at getting info out of Rachel, and if she sent the cops sniffing around, who _knew _what kind of consequences that could bring...After all, that was the entire reason Aloy had sent _her _here, without the police even being aware. This personal drama? It worked to Max's advantage. A convenient mask of her own. "What do you know about the missing girl?" Max specified, when all she got was a stare.

"...Who, the runt?" Rachel murmured. Nice, her curiosity was piqued, at least.

Max paused uncertainly, then nodded. She swapped looks with Chloe, who...swapped looks with Rachel. There was definitely _some _kind of...wire-crossing going on, here. She'd have to sort it out later. Right now, she had Miss Amber's attention.

"What about her?" Rachel asked carefully. "I _know_ you're an investigator. We never reported her missing. So who hired you?"

Max's index fingers were both tapping in unison gently against the table as she considered how to reply.

She caught a whiff of Chloe's befuddled face and a grumbling of "Wait, say what? Max, you're...-?"

Max just continued to stare. She'd bide this one.

"It was fucking _Jo, _wasn't it?" Rachel sighed, her eyes flickering with irritation.

_Like a fish to bait._

"Maybe," Max cryptically replied. So Rachel _didn't _know the cops were aware – and _apparently _it wasn't common knowledge that this poor girl was missing? Did she maybe run away, then?

"_What_ about Jo?" Chloe scrambled, lost. "And whoa, back up, _what _missing girl?" She shot Max an offended stare, but now wasn't the time to be petty.

{ **JO **} - the officer guarding the front door. It _was _curious to have a cop keeping peace in front of...a restaurant. Perhaps tied to its identity as a 'public work,' of sorts? Suspicious, either way. And _why _did Rachel sound _irritated _that a fellow employee had been reported missing? Rachel wasn't _that _heartless, was she? Or maybe from her point of view, there wasn't even a case to be made. Rachel knew _all _about disappearing, after all.

"You're on a missing _persons _case?" Chloe winced, her head lulling with some frustration. "This was all a fucking _set up, _huh?" Shoving her hat on, Chloe grumbled, "So much for a 'break.' Un_-_fucking-_believable, _Max..." Chloe was getting up, clearly desperate for an 'out,' but Max was holding her ground. Kind of a reverse of how things usually went, maybe, but this was important.

Max could barely make out Rachel's eyes narrowing with annoyance at Chloe's bickering. All the while, Max was suppressing her guilt over the context.

"Trouble in paradise, huh?" Rachel uttered gruffly, watching Chloe flip her the bird as she stomped off, tossing her jacket on. Rachel smiled sadistically back at Chloe.

So. Rachel, in all of Max's estimations, was more of a 'Din' woman. Pursuit of power via any means.

Between the three of them, they were a regular fucking Force of the Holy Trinity.  
Which left a nice _empty _spot in the middle. A vacuum for chaos.

But according to the stories, two forces of that Trinity inevitably joined forces against the third to maintain balance.

Working her hand up to her chin – and making sure her wedding band was obviously visible – Max drizzled out a counter-question, getting back on topic.

"What's her _name_?" Max asked. "The girl who went missing a few weeks ago."

Rachel sucked in a slow, frustrated breath, and when she exhaled through her nose, Max could hear the hot air pressing against the inside of her mask. Heh, like an angry bull glowering at the matador's cape. Now if only Max could get her to _charge_...

"Was she a friend of yours?" Max wondered. "Or just-...You know. Just another _piece _on some fucking _chess _board?"

"The fuck does _that _mean? Who hired you?" Rachel repeated herself.

Max pulled out her phone, quickly swiping and tapping to bring up a photo _of _a photo that Officer Nora had sent her. It depicted the two missing young women in question. The bushy-haired one in the red-tinted glasses was supposedly an employee at this very establishment. Up until, you know, she _vanished_.

Showing the photograph to Rachel, Max once again dodged her inquiry and lobbed out a new one.

"Unless you want me to start asking all your _buddies _here about this, make a whole scene of it, get the police involved? You're going to tell me what you know about these two."

Rachel's jaw shifted unpleasantly, and Max could practically sense her nose scrunch up with disdain.

"Why don't you make a fucking _order_ already so this doesn't _look_ weird?"

Max laughed softly, bemused.

"_Sure. _Fine." She shrugged sharply. Softening her voice back to a bygone era of her life, she 'timidly' requested, "Um. Could I have some...green tea and a...-" She paused, daintily pushing hair behind her ear. "_Mm, _some sauteed mushrooms?"

"Want some _salt _on those?" Rachel grumbled, jotting the order down.

"I changed my mind, actually," Max called out, raising her tartly sweet, gentle voice. "Could I have those _roasted, _instead?"

Rachel practically hissed, "...For _here _or _to go_?"

Max smiled pleasantly with her rosiest cheeks.

"For here."

As Rachel sighed and whirled around, Max savored the _idea _ofthe annoyed eye-roll likely happening from beneath Rachel's mask.

Slapping her phone down on the table, Max took a breath. Wow, her heart was..._racing. _Whoa. She'd never spoken with Rachel Amber before. This had been their first interaction, face-to-face. It simultaneously felt terrible and amazing, all at once. To think, all of that _bullshit _she had put herself through, for Chloe's sake, for _this _woman's sake...And now she was back in the very city she'd spent so long struggling to escape? Max wasn't sure _why _Rachel was back, especially after the circumstances behind her disappearance in the first place. But she couldn't help but feel a certain, specific brand of glee at it. Rachel had put a lot of people through hell just to leave, but she was stuck here, anyway. Served her right, so far as Max was concerned.

Max was here to do a job, though. The personal satisfaction was just a delicious side-dish, and she would _gladly _sip that hot tea as she got the info she came here for.

Scrolling through her notes on her phone, Max tried to decide what angle would be best to approach this line of questioning with. She had to be delicate enough to not _break _the harlot's mood, but also prickly enough to get that bull moving, or else she'd-  
"_Max._"

_FUCK, _jeez! Oh, it was Chloe. Spooking her again! Wait-

"Chloe?"

"_Dude, _why are you still _here?_" Chloe was hovering over her, having apparently sneaked back to their table when Rachel disappeared. Had she been...watching, then? Why not just _stay, _at that point?

"Rachel's going to give me some dirt on this case," Max grunted, still scrolling through her phone, but not actually processing any of what was flashing before her eyes.

"Uh, _yea, _so, _'bout _that, Maxie...-" Her tongue like an icicle, Chloe slid back into her seat, but kept her coat and hat on this time. "Why the _hell _did you not tell me about this?"

Max's breathing went unsteady for a moment at the sound of Chloe's heart-ached disappointment and frustration.

"Didn't realize it'd be a whole _thing,_" Max sighed. "My client needs me on this ASAP, and...-" Max trailed off, shaking her head.

Chloe sighed, wiping moisture from the edges of her eyes. "We coulda...double-_teamed _her or something, dude..."

"The whole _idea _was to do this without you even _worrying _about it," Max defended. "Try to scope things out a bit, pick and choose an approach, maybe chat up one of the waitresses when you...took a piss, or...-"

"_What_? OK, um, _not _cool, hiding this from me. I'm your _wife_, "

"Sure, yea, _not _cool. Just like how _you _apparently already _knew _Rachel was back? And the way you two _looked _at each other? The way she _talked _to you? Sure sounded like you've both been in _touch. _Wanna talk about 'not cool?'"

"That...-!" Chloe's eyes were welling up in a weird way, her cheeks burning pink. "Look, uhhhmmm...-"

Whoa, her voice was _trembling, _what the hell?

She was pulling out her phone, fingers quivering, fumbling around. Max was bewildered at first, then realized Chloe was sending her a text, for privacy's sake.

_Fucking Farore's sake, Chloe, __**what **__have you gotten into this time?_

**( From: Chlo-Bear )**  
( Look ok this is gonna make you mad but )-  
( I may or may not know somebody )-

Nothing. For a few seconds. Max glanced up at her wife, whose thumbs had frozen up. She offered Max a scary kind of smile, afraid and on the verge of tears, but managed to send the rest.

( who's back to her old tricks )-

_Goddess fucking __**damnit**__, Chloe!_

( aaaand blondie may or may not like )-  
( be playing for the other team? )-

Max irritably went to text back,  
-( Just TELL me what- )  
but stopped herself, because Chloe was _right in front of her._

"Chloe. Just-...Look, I'll...get mad about it _later, _we can _talk _about this, we've _both _fucked up here, just-...just _tell _me. OK?"

Chloe swallowed, sniffed, wiped her nose, and texted some more.

Man, what in the _fuck? _How had they gotten themselves here? This was like _polar _opposite of how things had used to be, with Max all being irritable and impatient, and Chloe being all...scared and emotional.

**( From: Chloe-bear )-**  
( Sorry. seeing her again, every time )-  
( dunno what it is but seeing her in person )-  
( it fucks me up i'm sorry )-

"It's OK," Max assured, holding out a hand across the table. Rachel had...done a bit of a number on Chloe, suffice it to say. It had taken Max and Chloe quite some time to just _unpack_ that, given the traumatic circumstances, let alone _deal _with it.

Max let Chloe type with her other hand, hanging on every pixel.

**( From: Chloe-bear )-**  
( before I got the job at Lindholm )-  
( we were behnd on bills, savings got ate up )-  
( I was scard didn't want to put it on yo )-  
( was my ducking fault for being useless )- _Ha, auto-correct._  
( didn't want to keep bing useless so )-  
( got in touch with Frank )-  
( he set me up like old times same gig )-  
( but um shits gotten a little crazy lately )-  
( not the kind of thing I can just leave this time )-  
( frank's not fucking around )-  
( rachel isn't with us anymore shes working for like )-  
( some rival gang bullshit )-  
( didnt know they all worked at some restaurant )-  
( thought it was I dunno some seedy club somewhere )-  
( no one let me know what it was called cuz I'm not supposed to even be here )-  
( don't fucking piss her off max )-  
( if she even thinks )-  
( you'll turn her in )-  
( she might )-

Setting her phone on the table, Chloe pulled her hand out of Max's fingertips and coughed, sniveling quietly into her sleeve as she wiped her eyes. While she let Chloe recuperate, Max swiftly deleted the entire text chain, lingering a bit on ( if she even thinks you'll turn her in )...

"I don't _know _what she'll do," Chloe panted out, her voice muffled by her sleeve. "I didn't-..._Heh_." Her eyes slid upward, and she dried the edges of her eyes with her thumb as she repeated Max's own words from moments earlier back at her. "Whole idea was-...was to fix this without you even _knowing _about it..."

Well. Fuck.

Super-sleuth Maxine Caulfield hadn't any damn clue _this _level of shit had been going on. Real ace detective work, there, all of this going on right under her nose...

Max didn't trust Rachel to begin with. But that wasn't good enough – Chloe, the love of her life, was up to pretty similar kinds of bullshit, it sounded like. But Chloe was _not _like Rachel. Whatever Rachel would do if she felt backed into a corner, Max had a feeling it wasn't the sort of thing _Max _would be afraid of. Max and Rachel were maybe a little alike in this way – they preferred to handle shit indirectly when things got dicey.

Max tightened up when she saw Rachel approach, but just as Max went to say something, Rachel delivered an order to a table down the aisle, and disappeared again. Yea, she'd _better _disappear...all over again. Would be best for everyone, really.

Regardless of whatever Chloe was afraid of – and Max _remembered _seeing Rachel _spaz out _at Grillby's a little while back, smash that _bottle _and everything – Max had a certain advantage Rachel didn't. Her own 'wild card,' so to speak.

So, yea. With that 'wild card' up her sleeve, Max wasn't afraid.

"Chloe," Max sighed, trying to process all of this. "Rachel can't..._hurt _us. Not with...-"

Max flexed her right hand outward and inward, giving Chloe a knowing look. She could barely feel her fingertips _tingle _as she recollected the sensation that her 'wild card' could elicit.

Chloe's breath tightened, then grunted out uncertainly.

"You still..._use _that?" Chloe sighed with some disparity. "I thought you were done with...-"

"I've practically _had _to use it to get any _work _done...on time," Max grumbled defensively, walking herself right into _that _inadvertent play on words.

"I-I mean, I ain't..._complainin_'," said Chloe, rubbing tiredly at her forehead. "I just-...Be _careful, _Max. I just get a bad feeling about that shit, especially with, like...the nosebleeds you were having?"

Max's heart froze over briefly as she recounted the multiple instances of their shared past where...it made damn good sense that Chloe would have a 'bad feeling.' But Max had fixed all of those problems. One at a time, each as they came, head-on. That shit was behind them. Chloe was safe, Max was safe, they were together, that was the end-goal. And she hadn't-...Well, the nosebleeds were a _lot _less severe than they used to be. She was controlling it a lot smarter now that she'd gotten the hang of it.

Jeez, though.

Fucking _money _of all things, being the source of so much strain. Figured.  
With what the two of them had accomplished, with what _Max _was capable of-...  
But at the end of the day, money was still _true_ power, wasn't it?

Rachel was heading their way again – with what looked like Max's order.

"She's back," Max said simply, glancing past Chloe's shoulder.

"Fucking _A, _man," Chloe huffed, popping up from her seat and whizzing by – but not before Max could clutch her hand and kiss it fiercely. "Yea, I love you, too, Bebb," Chloe uttered briskly, retreating to the far side of the bar again.

Rachel eyed Chloe's retreat critically.

"I'm starting to think think she doesn't _like me _anymore," Rachel blurted in a melodramatic, pouty fashion, pulling Max's attention back to the task at hand. "And we used to get along _so well_..."

Watching Rachel set down her meal gave Max that little pep of rejuvenation she needed – after _all _that, and here she was, back to the _exact _same shit she had been, years ago...

"What did you _say _to her?" Max demanded frigidly, both in defense of her wife but also to mask the scent of the truth she'd just discovered.

Rachel bitterly retorted, "What _could _I say that she wouldn't just...take and shove up her own _ass_ just to stay pissed at me?"

Max gave her an incredulous look – was Rachel's memory foggy? Chloe had a habit of exaggerating, but...Max had double-checked, for all of the goddamn effort she'd once put into finding _Rachel_'s ungrateful ass. Rachel had totally fucked over both Chloe _and _Frank. Probably others, too, from the sounds of it.

"_Whatever _you did to her recently," Max said, "she won't _tell _me."

Rachel puffed out a sigh, rolled her eyes. Played dumb.

"Won't tell _me, _either, if it's any consolation. You know her better than I do – _you_ know how she gets."

"...Yea. I _do _know," Max said, playing along, too, but secretly sizzling with pride at how this maybe _wasn't _as true as Rachel might've believed.

Max took a sip of her tea. It was...wow, actually pretty damn good. Someone here knew how to brew some quality stuff, for it being just some hippy-laden mystery club.

"Anyway. Those girls," Max reminded, taking a stab at her mushrooms. Which were, by the way, sauteed, not roasted, as requested.

Rachel, having been waiting to get this over with, recanted, "Grae's, like...Jo's foster kid or some bullshit," Rachel spat out. "Nice, but...total air-head, not _surprised _she let that...tweaker _nutcase _run off with her..."

Grae – _another _name for this kid. It was like every time someone mentioned her, they spat out a different name. Even the photo Aloy had sent over had the title – or was it name? – { _Bae_ } scrawled onto its reverse side. However people referred to this girl, it always seemed to end with the same sound. '-ae.' What was up with this? The girl's _legal _name, per Aloy's report, was 'Luna.' Yet no one seemed to call her this.

As for the other one...'tweaker nutcase?'

_The other girl in the photo. Senua._

"Who? 'Tweaker?' _What_ tweaker?"

Rachel shook her head, shrugging indifferently. "_I _don't know, some...retarded _garbage-pail _chick. Crazy _hobo_. Was getting Grae hooked on the same shit _she _was so they could _share, _from what I heard."

_Yea, and I bet __**you **__had __**nothing **__to do with that..._

"So what happened to them?" Max pressed. "Where'd they go? You said she 'ran off' with this other girl?"

"I don't _know, _that's-...I just, I mean, I _assume_," Rachel backtracked a bit. Hm. Kind of odd to go assuming something like that about someone she supposedly didn't give two fucks over.

"Say she _did _run off," Max offered. "Where would she _go?_"

"Like _I _know?" Rachel balked, wiping the spot of table where Chloe had been sitting. "They _disappeared. _Isn't that why you're fucking _investigating _them?"

"And you have _no _clues? _No_ one here does? I'll _ask, _if you-"  
Rachel immediately waggled her hand – discreetly – at Max to calm down with that.

"Like I _said,_" Rachel grumbled. "She was hooking up with this _psycho. _Lives in a _junkyard_ or something. Last _I _saw her, Grae was raving about how they were going to _leave _this town, make a new life, all that shit...-"

Max couldn't help but smirk, and couldn't stop a soft chuckle from escaping her.

Taking a nice hot sip of her tea, Max said snarkily, "_Wow. _I bet all _that _makes you feel pretty _nostalgic, _doesn't it?"

Rachel had a mini epiphany, it seemed, but instantly turned sour as a result.

"Fuck you, Maxine."

"Wait 'til Joyce hears about this," Max taunted, referring to Chloe's mother. "A real _hoot. _You, back in Arcadia. Waiting tables. Just like _old times, _so I hear."

Her eyes wrinkling unpleasantly beneath her mask, Rachel offered up a sarcastic, seething smile, shaking her head bitterly.

"I guess some things never change," Max mused, relishing this years-in-the-making sensation. Like sipping from a wonderfully aged wine.

"Not unless you _make them_," Rachel replied grimly. "Which I guess _you _would know about. Wouldn't you?" She primly finished wiping the seat Chloe had sat on. Noting how Max had barely touched her food, Rachel remarked, "You going to finish your meal? Or...-" She looked Max square in the eye. "-...should I get you a to-go box, because you _changed your mind _again?"

For the first time in this entire exchange, Max actually felt uneasy.  
"Uh...-"

"Mm?" Rachel hummed testily. Now Rachel was taunting Max back. Did she..._know_? About what Max could do? Had she...what, gotten that info out of Chloe somehow, or...-? Maybe she was just flexing.

Before Max could respond, Rachel brought their conversation to a quick conclusion, refilling Max's tea. The steam billowed before them as she spoke beneath the commotion of the club.

"I _told _you what I know. Take it up with Jodariel if you don't believe me, doubt she knows any more than I do." Max believed her. But she wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing or not. "_I've _got no idea what Chloe's all pissed about." Yea, see, 'cuz _that _was definitely a lie. But then, Max could _tell _it was, so-... "What I _do _know is that I don't want her in my life anymore, and _clearly _that feeling is mutual. So maybe you two stay the fuck away from me, from my co-workers, from this _place. _OK?"

And _that _was a threat.

"You _hear _me, bitch?" Rachel hissed into Max's ear, closing distance between them slowly and subtly. "Consider this your only warning. I _know _you were spying on me the other day. Got fucking eyes in the back of my head. I _know _about you. _Yea. _That _thing _you can do? I know about _that, _too, and guess what? Doesn't scare me. Think you're fucking _special? _Ha. Baby, you don't _know _'special.' Mess with me or _anyone _here again? You'll be _wishing _someone was investigating _you_, 'cuz they won't know where to fucking find your damned _ashes_ when _I'm_ through..."

Max could feel the hairs on her arms, on her back, on her legs, all standing up on goosebumps.

Rachel swaggered off, leaving Max alone with this threat.

That aged bottle of wine?

Rachel had done like she had with the beer bottle the other day – picked it up, smashed it, and pointed it at someone's neck like a damn shiv.

And all of Max's smug satisfaction felt...entirely evaporated.

Was Rachel bluffing? That-...She _had _to be. That was Rachel Amber's way. She was a chameleon. A word-weaving manipulator. She knew what to say, how to say it, to get people to do what she wanted. Maybe Max had inadvertently played right into her hand, here? A hastily planned hand, but, still. She'd caught Rachel off guard, and the claws had come out.

Fuck. They were actually pretty scary claws. Which, given some of the people _Max _had dealt with, that...was saying something.

Suddenly, Max was starting to worry whether or not taking this case had been a good idea. It was as if the Universe was, like she'd kept telling herself, specifically fucking with her.

But, well, here she was, very much _done _with letting said Universe have its way.

So, sipping at her freshly refilled and piping hot tea, Max fired off a text.

-( To: Nora )  
-( OK, so yea. )  
-( Definitely turned up something, here. )  
-( Will relay in person next time we meet. )

Aloy took in a breath of relief as she received this text from Max. She was sitting outside Captain Amari's office as she waited for her boss to beckon her back in. Some important phone call had come up just as their meeting had started.

Aloy replied,

-( To: P. F. )  
"Sounds good, period. I'll touch base tomorrow morning, period."

She had received a text back from Lena.

( From: Lena )-  
( Love you too A! )- a kissy-face-wink-heart emoji.  
( Sure thing! See you for supper after your meeting, yea? )-

She responded,  
"Yea, comma, that would be good, period. I'll let you know, period. Maybe we can get something right this time, question mark?"

_Argh, _her phone had...interpreted the 'Maybe' as 'may' and the 'right' as 'let's,' what?

Oh. Aloy suddenly realized that she wasn't using her bluetooth piece. Probably wasn't holding the phone right to pick things up clearly.

She hesitated at putting the thing back on, though. It had...done _whatever _it had done _twice _to her now. Then again, it might've been something wrong with _Aloy, _herself, and not the device. She didn't technically have any evidence to correlate, other than taking it _off _seemed to quiet things. _Gurgh. _Maybe she should've opened up to Zenyatta about this? But if she had, who _knew _what kinds of ramifications that could have. She could get put on leave or something, which the opposite of what she needed.

Captain Amari passed her by, and a stern flick of her wrist was all Aloy needed to know to follow.

After getting herself sorted at her desk, Amari gazed up at Aloy, who offered a formal salute, to which Amari gestured a lowering hand.

"Nora," the Captain said simply. Almost grimly, as she gazed at the report Aloy had given to her.

"Captain," Aloy replied, neutral as she could be.

Putting on her reading glasses, Ana Amari scratched at her cheek a bit as she studied the papers. 

"Aloy."

"Y-Yes?" Whoa. The Captain hardly ever used her _first _name like that...

"Why do you keep pursuing this case?"

"Um-...Sorry, I don't think I understand...the question."

"A Detective should be working a case like this."

"R-Right, but...you didn't...assign one. So."

"I did not. I _did _assign you."

"Yea. _Yes. _Ma'am. Yes, you did."

"And now that you have come up with something of substance, I should pass it onward to officers of the proper rank."

"...Oh. I, uh...-"

"I told you to stop worrying about it."

"I mean…I didn't see anyone else take it up, so…-"

"You still want to continue working this case."

Aloy nodded eagerly, confused and kind of afraid and nervous, but immediately ready to prove herself.

Ana nodded – much _less _eagerly.

"You understand the kind of complex position this places me in."

_Do I? What position? I mean, couldn't you just...tell me to screw off, and put somebody else on it?_

"Erh...-" Aloy felt her expression ready to waver but managed to keep her cool, shrugging one shoulder slightly with tight lips and an uncertain gesture of her head.

"You've proven – time and again – how capable you are. Despite your setbacks."

"Mm." Aloy's head bobbed forward, sure of this – and yet, to save face she added quickly, "Thank you, Ma'am. That's...the idea."

The Captain flipped a page of the report.__

"The trauma of the HADES Incident is still fresh and yetyou continue to come in to work, studious and determined as ever. You continue to deliver reports like this."

"Uh-...Like...-"

"Prompt, clean, accurate, no nonsense."

"M-My partner, she...certainly helps with that."

"_Hmph. _I would like to believe you, Aloy. I would like to _believe _that your influence has been helping Oxton."

"I...would _like _to think we _both _have...been encouraging mutual growth. In each other. Ma'am."

"Maybe," the Captain sighed, flipping the report folder closed. "I still have my doubts, and yet...-"

"She's trying, Ma'am, we _both _are. Together we're...-"  
But Ana help up her palm at Aloy's uninvited assertion.

"There has been gossip recently – gossip as to why you were demoted. I have my reasons. That's all I will say on that matter."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Aloy nodded obediently.

"And yet," Amari went on, "despite how I've treated you – or perhaps _in _spite of this – you've been _doggedly _pursuing this case. A case I could pull from under your feet at any moment."

Unwavering, Aloy nodded. What, was this...some kind of test, or...-?

"Why, Officer Nora?"

"They-..." Wasn't this common sense? "Two young people go-...go _missing, _during a time when-...I mean, the _bombing _recently? And-..."

"Nora."

"Right. I just-..." Aloy took a second to steady her thoughts. Compress all of it into a single point. "No one else has lifted a finger to help these people, so...I _am. _Lena and I – _we _are."

"And none of this has _anything _to do with your mother? Or your father?"

"I...mean...-" Aloy's words were drizzling out slowly as she fumbled around such a delicate topic. "I admit, when I...signed up for the Academy, I was...I-I don't know, trying to make my Father proud. Eager to...find out exactly what happened to my mother, but...-"

"What changed?"

"_Well, _I-..._You _know what happened to Roth, and...-" Aloy could feel her chest get very tight suddenly. She'd been so occupied juggling everything lately, she...hadn't spared herself much thought on his memory. A certain breed of guilt was spawned from that, which she had to keep at bay, at least for this conversation. "I mean, I've...come to terms with my mother's..._situation_, and...-"

"That you will never see her? For the rest of your life?"

"Wh-...She's-...I mean, that's...sort of a _stretch, _she's...-"

But Ana's expression was unchanging.

Aloy gestured up one conceding wrist.

Aloy admitted, "She's not at the forefront of my intentions anymore, no. Whatever happened, happened, I can't...control her past decisions. I barely _knew _her, even, and-...Look, um, C-Captain, I don't...mean to...-"  
"Permission to speak freely," Ana blurted out matter-of-factly, like a cat batting gently at a mouse, then waiting to see what it would try next.

Off-put, Aloy's index finger was quietly hammering against her own knee.

Aloy...spoke freely.

"With all respect, Captain, what does my...family situation have to do with my _job_? I feel I've..._more _than proven that my past in no way conflicts with my work."

"You have," Ana acknowledged, somewhat to Aloy's befuddlement.

"I...-" Aloy gave pause, shooting the Captain an uncertain expression, as if trying to decipher what she was or was not allowed to say, here. Ana's cocked brow, lowered eyelids, and thin-lipped smile taunted her.

"Why are _you _still...Captain?" Aloy wondered, thinking back to the woman's remark about getting stuck in one position. "I mean, with all your experience – everything you've done for the APD – you could easily be sitting higher up the chain of command. So why are you still _here?_"

Ana smiled smugly, yet with a twinkle of acceptance.

"لسه في ناس لازم احميهم ."

Aloy...didn't understand what she said.

But, with a chuckle, Ana followed up by adding, "_Someone _has to show them how it's done. Part of true service is accepting when you have found where you are the most effective."

"I...-" Aloy pondered on that carefully. "I'm not sure...where that _is_ yet. For _me. _But I've _also_...demonstrated that, when we – Lena and I – are _equals, _partners, I _can, _in fact, balance my personal life _with _my occupation. I am most effective when I'm...tackling _real _cases. Not _parking _tickets. I'm most effective _with _Lena, not without her. Lena and I work better _because _of our status as partners, not in _spite _of it."

"_Hmph, _well. That...remains to be proven," Ana skeptically commented. "But I understand your point."

"Again, Ma'am, with..._respect, _but...what's going on? Why am I here?"

"You are _here _because my request with Chief Morrison was passed – reluctantly, mind you. He has his doubts – as do I – but I believe it's still the right call."

"Excuse me? What request? What 'call?'"

"To assign you and Oxton as Detectives."

Oh. _Ohhh.  
_Erh...What?

"I don't-...You only _just _demoted me last-"  
"If there's one thing you should know, Nora, about climbing the ranks, it's that it is never as simple as who does the better job."

"I-...That's...-" Aloy had to clear her throat.

This _should've _been exciting news.  
Why was Aloy not excited?  
Was it because she'd _already _been through this? Then had it deflated, now _re_inflated?

"You desire an explanation," Ana observed. Probably pretty easily, with how Aloy's expression and body language were going. "As I said – I have my reasons."

"And-...And what about your daughter? Do you have reasons for how you've acted toward _her?_"

Ana laughed. Once. It was a laugh unlike any Aloy had heard her utter before.

"I gave you permission to speak freely, Nora – that was not an invitation to speak _foolishly._"

Aloy retracted her accusatory demeanor in an instant.

Ana rambled, "The politics of the APD should in no way interfere with your work. You _have _proven that you are capable of doing your job despite them. But I _will _warn you – your partner? She is _quite _entangled in political strings. I'd advise _avoiding _any attempts to _un_tangle them, if you wish to maintain forward momentum with any of this."

Holy-...What was she _getting _at?  
Just-...Just going to _drop _a statement like that, and...-?

"Ah, _mm_. You see? It is in your _eyes _this very moment." said Ana, pointing a sly finger at her Officer. Wait, Detective? Now? "I don't mean to burst any proverbial _bubble _you may have been living within, Nora, but your straight-laced ideals – while quite motivating – should not be confused with _reality. _You have _shown _me that you can get things _done_. Keep that up. Don't get _caught up _in the politics. Don't _trip _yourself over our strings. I _know _how you are, Aloy. I know what a curious creature you can be. And that can be _vital _in our line of work – as long as you don't _cross _that line. Wield that curiosity like a _tool_, do not let it wield _you._"

At a loss for words, Aloy opened her mouth, realized she had nothing of sense to say, and closed that mouth right back up.

"Do you understand?" Amari checked. "I like your process. I like what you have to offer to this department. But I also can't afford that curiosity leading you astray. Dwelling on things it shouldn't – on the past, for example."

"I understand loud and clear, Captain," Aloy said, rising from her seat to attempt to seal the conversation with a solid salute. "Work the case. Follow through. Don't get distracted." At Amari's nod, she resumed as she was.

Ana made Aloy stew for a few seconds, reading her expression with caution.

"Good," she decided at last. "We'll sort out the paperwork tomorrow and make this official."

Aloy nodded, still a bit taken aback. This was all pretty odd. Her 'detective' brain was telling her that, contrary to her past assumptions, maybe her shifting title had...more to do with _Lena _than her? Why?

Clearly, something shady was going on, there. But she was being more-or-less ordered to not look into it. Some kind of early lesson in police-work, huh? Perhaps unsurprising, given the rumors Aloy had been hearing lately, but she'd honestly expected this to have more to do with, well..._her. _Her dad, her mom, the HADES incident, something like that.

But the more Aloy contemplated it – on her elevator ride down from her department's floor – the more Aloy couldn't ignore that it _did _seem like Lena was hiding something from her.

Aloy had to dismiss this, though. Officer Nora – oh, _Detective _Nora? – had her work to take care of.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_Zenyatta and Reinhardt originate from __**Overwatch **__(Blizzard)._

_Hedwyn, Jodariel, and Pamitha originate from __**Pyre**__ (Supergiant Games)._


	10. Episode 10

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)

**Episode 10**

******\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Alex shivered as she wandered through their barren kitchen. Man, it was colder than she would've expected, but...then again, they'd been staying conservative with the heat to keep bills down. Alex poked and peeped through cupboards, then through the fridge. Jeez. Yea, pretty empty. They really needed to do some grocery shopping. With her first check from this research study thing deposited, and her second check sitting on her nightstand, she could contribute.

Alex microwaved some water to make some tea – whatever plain brand Mae had picked up a while back, Alex wasn't picky. As she waited for the water to 'cook,' Alex slapped together a hasty lunch with the last two slices of bologna, an unceremoniously extracted glob of ketchup, and the last two pieces of bread – which were both crusts, ha. Alex might've preferred a different condiment, but...ketchup was what she had. She lamented her body's cramping as she stood in the chilly kitchen in sweatpants and an old Longest Night sweater. The texture of it was scratchy and mostly uncomfy, so she was wearing a t-shirt beneath it.

Her mind's numbed, DGAF state was coming off of her Joyful high at this point. With the pill she'd snuck at the Donut Wolf bathroom wearing off, her anxiety was beginning to creep its way in again, and her period cramps were crawling back to her consciousness. It was a regular reminder of her dissatisfied state of existence in this useless, meat-sack body that turned on itself when it wasn't doing what nature itself apparently expected of her.

Her sandwich was all eaten up by the time her tea was brewed. Man, she felt pretty hungry. And, actually..._yeesh, _really tired. She'd barely _done _anything that day, but maybe just going through the effort of socializing was tiring enough? Maybe she wasn't drinking enough water. Or not eating well enough? Donut globs for lunch aaaand nothing for breakfast, yea, great diet she had going. Staying in her room hunched over her laptop all day? Every day? _Eugh. _Maybe not helping, either...

But when she got back to her laptop with a full cup of hot tea in hand, she saw that Sandra had finally replied to her, continuing their conversation from earlier. She'd continued to chatter a bit while at the Donut Wolf, kind of tuning out of the socializing right in front of her. She wasn't _quite _out of her 'Joyful' state, and wanted to linger there as long as she could. Taking a second pill in the same day was straight out, so she'd just need to hang in there. If anything, it had relaxing to not be constantly consumed by stress for a whole afternoon. She'd been avoiding the stuff in preparation for being accepted into her testing, and had to avoid it whenever an appointment was on the docket. But today? Donut 'holes' (seriously, though, why were they called that?), and Mae's nosey, uppity friend (_were _they even friends because they didn't ACT like it so how come), not to mention just seeing Max and Chloe together always gave her this weird frustrating bitterness (was it jealousy or was it because she felt like they didn't actually like her all that much or was it)-

The screen in front of Alex popped out another line of text from Sandra. The subtle change in visual – just a single line of text, pushing everything else up – had begun to create a Pavlovian effect for Alex.

Right. Had to stop dwelling on all of the crap from earlier and focus on Sandra, now that she was back.

When last they'd spoken – a few hours earlier, when Alex had been at the donut shop – Alex had been explaining how it seemed that FutureGadget was keeping her on for the research study, and that she had managed to survive that 'donut date' with people well enough.

( Glad to hear they've decided to keep you on this research study. )-  
( You see, darling? I knew you'd be fine. ;) )-

-( Guess you were right, maybe I worried for nothing. )  
-( It's a potion on the wound, not a real fix )  
-( but I'm thankful to have SOME kind of cash coming in. )

When Sandra had nothing to say, Alex found herself squirming on her bed, her cramping seizing her up, and bringing with it the incessant fears, worries, concerns, angers, hates...

She hated her mom for remarrying.  
She hated her dad for leaving.  
She hated Jonas for trying to replace Mike.  
She hated Ren for acting like he _knew her _so well.  
She hated how she kept masturbating to thoughts of Clarissa.  
She hated Clarissa, too, by the way, which obviously contributed to the prior emotion.

She hated herself the most, of course.

As the cramping loosened its grip on her abdomen, Alex found herself curled in a ball in her bed. Hands gripping at her stomach, her own hair caught in her eyes, nose, mouth, her forehead sweaty and her heartbeat uncomfortably loud.

The Joy sure felt like it had worn off, then. Coming down from it was always terrible. Another reason she had to be careful when she took it. She typically rebalanced herself afterward, but if she waited too long to take more...-

Maybe she could just spare herself all this? Take another pill?  
No, no, fucking stupid, she knew better.  
But she deserved to spare herself some pain, right?  
She was making progress!  
Being social, earning money, pushing herself.  
Just one more wouldn't really put a dent in her freshly acquired supply, anyway, she could-  
_AUGH, Alex, no! Stop!  
You fucking child!_

Alex sobbed out a miserable sound into her messy bed sheets.  
Dwelling on everything she hated was tiring. So was mentally arm-wrestling her addiction.  
So was dealing with a monthly reminder from her body that she was 'supposed' to be making babies.

She had to take _something.  
_The pain was all flooding back in too quickly for her to deal with.

Alex decided it had been long enough since the Joy dosage to take some pain relief meds. Right? That was a good compromise. Maybe it hadn't been long enough, though. It probably hadn't. But she couldn't _handle _much more of this pain. Even talking with Sandra wasn't alleviating things enough.

Coughing on her own phlegm and swallowing it back down, Alex recovered from her fetal position, wiped her forehead sweat on her scratchy sweater sleeve, and wiped the water from her eyes.

Alex dragged her sorry ass to the bathroom, took a pain reliever, then thought about pissing but couldn't bring herself to do so (even though she'd just had tea). She knew more hydration would probably help, so she forced herself to drink a glass of water but only got two thirds of the way down before feeling a little sick from too much water too quickly. Alex made another trip to the kitchen, but...the pickings were slim, and nothing was reaching out to her limited appetite.

When she finally returned to the bedroom, Alex dropped herself into her mattress, face-first, and planked for a few moments. She fumbled a hand toward her night stand to grab a hair tie and balled her hair into a knot before at last resuming her chat.

Except Sandra hadn't said anything.

Alex decided to try and get a conversation rolling again.

-( So. Enough of me, what's going on with you today? )  
-( Write anything lately? Have any stuff for me to check out? )  
-( I didn't hurt your feelings with that critique on the flash fic, did I? ;P )

Alex found herself waiting a little, sipping at her tea a bit as she caught up on some social media, shared some silly meme-posts, and watched a video essay critiquing a sitcom she'd loved in high school but had ended in a rushed, disappointed mess (shared that on said social media, too).

Twenty minutes of web surfing, but still no response from Sandra. Hm.  
Damnit. Damnitdamjitdamweuihissda she'd screwed up she said something bad shouldn't have brought up the flashfic fuck dindamnit -

_Slow._

_Down._

_Take a breath._

_Sandra's busy. She's probably at __**work. **__You know? Work? Like a proper adult?_

_Show some compassion, less creepy obsession._

_You can handle not being the center of her attention for more than five minutes.  
Right? Yea. Duh. Obviously.  
Just because she's not speaking with you instantly_

_doesn't mean she's not  
I mean  
she likes talking with you  
obviously  
so ummm_

Alex caught herself spinning in circles. She shut her eyes. She took a breath. She opened her eyes, rested her fingertips on her keyboard, and considered what to say next in the 's head was simultaneously juggling three different possible follow-ups:

_-( Is everything OK? )_  
or maybe  
_-( Are you doing all right? )_  
or how about  
_-( Look, sorry if I'm bothering you. )_

Practically on impulse, Alex typed out:  
**-( Are you doing all right? )**

And Sandra responded within moments.

( A question that is quite subjective. )-  
( But I am managing things well enough. )-  
( There is simply a lot to manage today. )-  
( Much more than usual... )-

-( Ah. All right. )  
-( Should I... )  
-( like, leave you alone? )

( While my responses may be delayed, your presence would be beneficial today. )-

Soooo...a 'don't leave me alone?' Then? Maybe?  
Alex liked to think of it that way.

-( Cool. )  
-( I just don't want to bother you though. )

( You adorable fool. )-  
Alex felt her cheeks tingle at this remark.  
( I am never bothered by your presence, your words, your reading, your listening. )-  
( Perish such fears. Dismiss such concerns utterly and completely. )-  
Alex's face unfolded a doofy grin she couldn't contain.

She responded,  
-( OK, I'll take your word for it. )  
-( Like you said yourself, though, I reserve the right to worry. )  
-( Anyway, give me something to read. )  
-( That way I'm still here but not needing you to reply constantly. )

( Ah, eager as always, my dedicated Reader. )-  
( Is my work truly that interesting to you? )-

-( Well it's more about who it's coming from, you know? )

( Oh? )-

-( You've assigned me a task, right? )  
_Save face save face don't look like a creep.  
_-( Being your beta-reader, I mean. )_  
_-( I'm being studious. ;P )  
-( If you've got nothing for me to read it's fine, just asking. )

( Well, I've had to displace it from the forefront of my activities today... )-  
( But I am working on a post about our mutual enemy. )-

-( lol what? )  
-( Mutual enemy? )

( Mr. Donovan D. Dawson. )-

-( oh farore NO. )  
_That jackass, how is he still in business?_  
-( What did he do THIS time? )

( It's more what he might do I am wondering about. )-  
( Mr. Dawson seems to be quite happy about his work today. )-  
( But, knowing him, there is always an ulterior motive... )-

-( What's up this time? )  
-( Haven't been following the Eye lately tbh )

The Augmented Eye was rapidly becoming a place Alex avoided, rather than relied on.

( He's been sharing a lot of Crash Red's posts over the last 24 hours. )  
( It's not like him to be reposting her personal musings... )-

-( Oh? Got a link? )

(  Dono. . . )

Alex obliged, clicking the link. It led her to the prick's social media, where he had, indeed, reposted something Crash Red had shared. Oh, huh. A post about...that one poppy but weird duo band. Off the Hook? Weird, they seemed pretty...outside of Red's wheelhouse. Yet here Red was, vague-posting about...how inspiring they were? Whoa. Maybe Alex needed to give them a second look? Er, listen? She'd been always kind of off-put by the way they carried themselves, kind of gave a 'fake,' trying-too-hard vibe a lot of the time? She gave them a quick look and pulled up a stream of one of their songs in the background before going back to her chat.

Oh, right. They sang in Inklish, didn't they? Alex couldn't understand any of the lyrics.

( He appears to be covering her ball tonight. )-

-( Who? Dawson? )

( Precisely. )-

-( Wait, wait, what? Ball? )  
-( Whose ball? )

( Oh, you weren't aware? Red is hosting an event. )-

-( Seriously? WHAT? )

( I thought you were obsessed with this lovely one. )-

-( PFFF. I mean, you're not WRONG, but.. )

Alex did a quick search. Wow, yea. Crash Red was holding some kind of charity ball. The 'Beacon of Hope Gala,' apparently. Oh. A play on the symbolic lighthouse that resided at the further edge of Arcadia Bay at the city's north side. Huh. This thing was for executives, business people, high-falootin' crap.

-( Ah, see. That's the problem. )  
-( It's for RICH PEOPLE. )

( Ah. My apologies. ;) )-  
( I tend to forget about this issue. )-

-( You must be well set, then, huh? )

( Ha. Perhaps I am... )-

Coy as ever. Maybe she was living off of...an inheritance, perhaps? Alex was still picking and prodding for details. She couldn't help it. She was just naturally drawn to something about 'Sandy.' She actually liked 'Sandy,' should she try calling her that more often?

Anyway, when Alex pushed too far for IRL details, Sandy pushed _back, _so...Alex was choosing her battles more thoughtfully now.

What Alex had figured out so far was that Sandra wrote in her spare time – poetry, mostly, but a little fiction, some think pieces. She _enjoyed _reading Internet comments. Goddess-knew why. She had a job, somewhere in the private sector, sounded like, something involving...maybe research? Paralegal? Or even a secretary? Alex wasn't sure, Sandy always toyed with her.

Alex had _also _figured out that Sandy did _not _have many friends. That just...made sense. She spent _too _much time talking with Alex lately to be able to juggle everything else she said she did. Not to mention that Sandra seemed to specifically write things for Alex to read, even if it was just a silly haiku in the chat once in a while. Was she going to do other things with what she wrote? Of course, sure. But she always had something new for Alex to read, almost every day, since they'd met, often specifying that Alex was the first to read it. Asking for her thoughts, how it made her feel. Whenever Alex dwelt on this collection of 'evidence,' it made her feel...'special.' It was a nice, warm, tingly kind of feeling.

A genuine connection, a potential life-long companion.

Getting ahead of herself? Yes. Definitely. _Goddesses, _yes, way ahead of herself.

Alex couldn't help it.

-( Well, are you going to go? )  
-( To the ball, I mean. )

( More jokes, hm? )-

-( Sooner or later, we're going to have to get you out of the house. )

( Well, that IS a long-term goal for me... ;) )-  
( Though it sounds like you're in just as dire a need. )-

-( lol fair. Ouch. )  
-( But hey, I've been going to that lab, at least! )  
-( And I went out for DONUTS today! )  
-( With basically strangers! )  
-( I don't even like donuts! )  
-( Tried something new! )

Apparently Alex had eaten all twenty 'donut holes' by herself, including the whole dipping cup of that weird sauce.

( It's true, you have indeed been taking strides toward rehabilitating yourself. )-

That word again. 'Rehabilitate.' What the hell?

Why was she using that word? That sort of thing was Alex's business, no one else's. Why did people keep trying to push their noses into what wasn't their business? _Argh, _Sandra had better not start pushing _that _bullshit, Alex wouldn't be able to deal with that, not from the one person who was helping her actually feel-

( I merely tease, Alex. )-  
( Am I not allowed to tease? )-

Alex stopped her mind from whirling into a spiny-shelled defensive state. Yea, Sandy was just picking on her. That was what she did. Alex was an easy target, so, fair enough.

-( Only if you keep giving me stuff to read. ;P )

( So shall it be. )-

-( But seriously, back up a step. )  
-( Why not go to this ball tonight? )  
-( I get the feeling you'd be welcomed there. )

( Many reasons. )-  
( One of which being I'd never want to be in the same place as Donovan Dawson. )-

-( ? )  
-( HE'S going to be there? )  
-( WTF? )

( I have a suspicion he will. )-  
( It would make sense of him promoting the event on his social media. )-  
( Plus, I'm hearing a rumor that Shantae will show up... )-

-( That belly-dancer singer? )  
-( Her name's been popping up a lot recently, I thought everyone had forgotten about her... )

( Yes, I'm actually a bit surprised, as well. )-  
( She hasn't made an in-person appearance at any performances all year. )-  
( I suspect she's only coming to this at Red's invitation. )-  
( And Off the Hook will be arriving, as well, it seems. )-

Ah. Which explained why Red was posting about them.

( And you KNOW how Mr. Dawson is when it comes to these kinds of individuals... )-

-( You mean: 'hot chicks.' )

( Do I? )-

-( LOL yes. You do. )

( I suppose. Not quite how I would have phrased it, but I suspect we're getting at similar concepts. )-

-( Didn't Dawson get into some kind of trouble with those two? )  
-( Off the Hook, I mean. )

There was a lull in the conversation. Alex realized she needed to hit the bathroom – it hurt to _move, _ugh. She changed her tampon while she was at it, then lamented how bloodshot her eyes were, how gross her face looked from crying in her bed earlier...She popped in some eyedrops to help a bit.

She returned, feeling dryer down bottom and moisturized up top (er, in the eyeballs). The pain reliever seemed to have kicked in, thankfully, but it wasn't like she was suddenly feeling amazing.

Anyway. Bleh.

Without knowing what else to do with herself – she was waiting for Mae to come back from-...Where _had _Mae gone? Work? Maybe? Yea, that sounded right. Waiting for Mae to get back from work, then they were apparently...going out? Alex didn't even really remember agreeing to that, but...sure.

Dropping herself back into bed, Alex propped her pillows up against the wall next to her bed (she, uh, just had a mattress on the floor, soo...). She lazily dragged her arms around, pulling her blanket over herself – but not her toes, which she had to wrangle in – before tiredly setting her laptop onto her stomach. Feeling more comfortable all around, she saw a reply from Sandra regarding the Off the Hook scandal with Dawson.

( Ah, you do seem to be correct... )-  
( I looked this up. There aren't any details, but there was some kind of legal resolution... )-  
( It appears...questionable. )-  
( Mr. Dawson's behavior, I mean. )-  
( Hm, I'm surprised I didn't know about this... )-

-( ughhhh! )  
-( I bet he did something GROSS. )

( Indeed, this does seem to line up with what information I'm seeing... )-  
( Evidently, a popular singer by the name of ***Kira*** Miki was intended to be at this ball tonight. )-

In the seconds between this message and Sandra's next, Alex had remembered how much she'd binged Kira Miki's stuff back when she'd still been a student, looked up a track of hers online, popped on her earphones, and turned that shit UP.

( But she declined, dropping out just yesterday. )-  
( The reason cited was that Mr. Dawson was to be conducting interviews there. )-  
( Ah. This is even more interesting... )-  
( It was ***Kira*** Miki dropping out so suddenly that seems to have led to Off the Hook being invited to perform in her stead. )-

-( SEE? )  
-( He's such a pervert! )  
-( And he manages to have power over these idols. )  
-( Changing their schedule because HE will be there? )  
-( Stupid, gross, selfish idiots like him have power over these artists. )  
-( That stuff should be the other way around. )  
-( I thought society was OVER this bullshit... )

( History repeats itself... )-  
( I am confused, however. )  
( If Mr. Dawson is merely taking the bait being so deliberately thrown... )-  
( Is his behavior surprising? )-  
( Why would they be caught by him if he is the prey falling for a trap? )-

-( What do you mean? )

( These 'idols' you're referring to...do they not represent themselves via risque mannerisms? )-  
( I've tried watching their performances, and some interview footage... )-  
( They all seem quite eager to illicit sexual arousal. Or am I misunderstanding? )-

-( Uhhh... )  
Man, what Alex suddenly talking to a robot, or something?

( If they did not want this kind of attention, why would they present themselves in the way they do? )-

-( Don't go slut shaming pop stars on me, Sandra. )  
-( I actually LIKE you? I would prefer to keep liking you. )

( 'Slut shaming?' That is... )-  
( a new one for me. )-

-( Psh. )  
-( Sounds like. )

( Explain, would you, Dear? )-

-( What? Can't you just look it up? )  
-( How do you not know this? )  
-( You read Internet comments. )

Alex could feel her face steaming. This was embarrassing, for multiple reasons.

( The word 'slut' has certainly come up, but not paired with the word 'shaming.' )-  
( Not in the locales I frequent, anyway. )-  
( You have to remember, I'm still a relative 'n00b' with this nonsense. )-

-( You know how to use a search engine... )

( Certainly. Quickly, at that. )-  
( But I'd prefer to hear it from you first. )-

-( LOL )  
-( wow um well )  
-( What an HONOR. )

( Indeed. ;) )-

_Nayru-DAMNIT I actually love that she thinks like that?  
But it also totally sounded like she's slut-shaming. Maybe if I just set her straight, here...-_

-( OOF, uhhhh )  
-( So, like, well )  
-( You know about Bayonetta, at least, right? )

( The provocative film actress? )-

-( Ha. That's...ONE way to sum her up, yea. )  
-( So like, this is terrible, but )  
-( Say she got...er... )

( Yes? )-

-( Imagine she was sexually assaulted. )

( That is...difficult TO imagine, based on all I am aware of. )-  
( If anything, I'd anticipate the opposite first. )-

-( I know I know )  
-( PFF hylian force, wow, um that's a BOLD remark, Sandra. )  
-( But THEORETICALLY )  
-( Say that happens, she gets assaulted. )  
-( If you blamed HER for it, )  
-( like, "oh you act all sexy and dress that way and blabla" )  
-( "she ASKED for it" )  
-( That kind of bullshit. )  
-( That's slut shaming. )

( Who on this planet would consider such nonsense and treat it like fact? )-

-( Well, uh, you would be )  
-( surprised at what the internet produces. )  
-( And I mean no offense, but )  
-( didn't you JUST do that about these other pop stars a second ago? )

( Hm. Noted. )-  
( I think perhaps I'm a bit out of touch with these matters. )-  
( It was not my intention to allude to this, more )-  
( I apologize for any offense my errant remarks may have caused, )-  
( my studious, thoughtful Reader. )  
( I've some confusion, I suppose, over why they would act so deliberately, yet let their guards down. )-  
( Your example, Bayonetta: )-  
( the characters she plays in her films, they use this behavior to capture their prey. )-  
( Why resort to such tactics if not for personal desire, nor to set up a trap? )-

-( It probably didn't quite go like that... )  
-( It's complicated. )  
-( You know what they say: sex sells. )  
-( But that's different from like )  
-( actual SHIT like that happening. )  
-( People get attached to these celebs because they like the fantasy. )  
-( It's sort of like, well yea, watching a film. )  
-( Except it...keeps going. Like a service, almost? )

( Yes. You're probably correct, observant Reader. )

-( ugh man I don't WANT to be right. )  
-( Just thinking about it like this is kinda creepy. )  
-( Like I said, the internet never ceases to surprise and confuse. )

( And you are quite right, I have VERY much been surprised. )-  
( Multiple times. )-  
( By what the Internet produces, as you said. )-

-( Heh. You really DO sound like a noob. )

( I am one, I shamefully admit. At least, by your standards. )-

-( Oh? )

( I wasn't really able to...surf the web at my leisure until recently. )-  
( Not the worldwide one, at least. )-

-( Stuck on one of those limited connections? )  
-( Where they ban like 90% of websites? )  
-( Or maybe busy with school? )

( Hm, more like...slacking off. )-

-( Slacking off WITHOUT the internet? Lol )  
-( How do you LIVE? )

( Oh, rest assured, darling, I definitely utilize the Internet when I slack off these days. )-  
( It's become quite the source of entertainment. I can see why people lose themselves here. )-

-( Haha. What was that thing you said before? )  
-( About us being turds swirling in the toilet of the Internet? )

( Of course you would remember me at my worst... )-

-( Always. ;P )

( Apologies, Alexandra, something seems to have come up at work. )-

Huh. 'Alexandra?' Had she told her that was her full name? Or had she guessed it? Alex didn't remember. Still, weird, she didn't really get called that often.

-( I prefer Alex, actually. )  
-( And it's fine, go take care of it. )  
-( I'll still be around. )

( Ah, yes. Sorry. )-  
( I suppose maybe I'm gravitating toward the more regal version of your given name. )-  
( It's almost as if you push it away. )-

-( Well )  
-( I'm not regal soooo. )

( Perhaps, but it might suit you well to accept your own regalities and wear them more confidently. )-  
( Ah, I really must depart now. )-  
( Until later, dear Reader. )-

A little disappointed at their chat ending quicker than she was used to, Alex had an uncomfortable pang of withdrawal. From her drugs? Or that desperate clinging to the warmth her talks with Sandra offered? Alone to her thoughts again, she could feel the tendrils of isolation creeping on her shoulders. Remembering her tea, now room temperature, Alex guzzled the last of it down just to have more liquids in her, and then...-

_Erughhhhh, _oof, was she tired. Closed her laptop.

Let her eyes take a break.

Mm.

_Fffmph._

When she opened her eyes, half an hour had passed, and she had texts from Jonas. She ignored them.

She also had a text from Mae's friend Gregg. Huh.

( Alax! )-

-( Groggory )

What little association Alex had with Gregg so far involved a running gag of misspelling each other's (or anyone else's) names.

( Shit dude I AM groggory today. )-

-( ? )

( sleepy. Bored af. )-  
( been working on this pet project all day. )-

-( Robots? )  
Right? Gregg and Mae had lifted some old...robots? Or something?

( creepypasta robots. Yea )  
( got worn OUT like )-

A pause.

( socks )-

-( Uh huh. )  
-( Are you high? )

( whose askin? )-

-( Someone else who is high. )  
-( Maybe. )

( niccceeeee )-  
( yea you were totally BLAZED at lunch weren't cha? )

-( No comment. )  
-( Anyway wtf is up? )  
-( You never txt me. )

( wet blanket rolled around in the hay. )-

It took Alex a few go around to make sense of that sentence. Er. Not makes sense? Understand what words it was. Saying. _Hoo. _What?

-( ? )

( afraid these things are gonna bite my hand off... )-

-( Dude. )  
-( wut? )

( Is Mae there? )-

-( Nope. )  
-( Work. )  
-( I think? )

( ofc )-  
( right when I need em theyre BEING RESPONSIBLE )-

-( Hehhh. Way of the world. )

( do me a favor Olex )-  
( ask mae if i'm pickin em up after work )-  
( maybe theyl answer you? )-

-( lol dunno whuy they would but yea )  
-( You got it Grajj. )  
-( *Grajjeri )

Sprawled across her bed in...wait, had she taken her sweater off? Didn't remember doing that...-  
Had taken off the t-shirt, too. What?  
Whew, how did she feeeeeel so hot and cold at the same time?  
Waht she was...-?  
_Ughhhh._

_Pain relievers plus Joy equals blargh?_

_Mae. Texting mae. Right. On it.  
super got this!_

-( Maeeeee )

( Whattttt )-

-( Are you picking up groggert after work? )

Mae was...a bit confused. Staring at their phone, they had to...re-read that text a couple times.

Mae texted Alex back,  
-( Is groggert like some yogurt you want or? )

( lolll sry sry )-  
( GRAGG wants to know if HE is picking YOU up. )-

Mae realized they had multiple texts from Gregg, asking precisely this, but hadn't noticed. Had their phone on silent with no vibration, 'cause Bea had gone off on some rant about how she didn't think Alex was a good fit for Mae as a roommate, blah blah...

Anyway, so like, yea, Mae could use a lift from Gregg after work. They'd swing back to the apartment, Mae would change outta uniform, they'd drag Alex's butt out, and go to Frank's place for a start, see what kinda trouble they could get into.

-( Ohhh yea, thanks. )  
-( I'll hit him up in a minute. )  
-( You seemed kinda weird back at donut wolf )  
-( You doin ok? )

( fuzzy peachin! )-  
Alex had included one of those 'A-OK' hand emojis.  
Huh.

Mae gawked, both pleased and unsure of how to reply. Seemed that investment in stress-relief was doing the trick, anyway, huh? Which reminded Mae, had to restock on weed when she saw Chloe and Frank later after work. Just got a fresh paycheck, so yea. Trading green for green.

Mae replied simply,  
-( Right on. )

_**-DEEN-dooon-**_

The horrifyingly heart-clenching sound of the entryway doors to the Snack Falcon blared their incessant noise, greeting Aloy to a horrific ground she only tread for work's sake. The jazz music playing through the store's speaker system was about the only tolerable thing she could discern about the store.

The camera footage she'd managed to obtain from the Big Bang Burger had been wiped through by Lena, who had managed to trace their missing persons. A bit of work had deduced that after dominating the food challenge which had put them on the diner's photo wall, they had taken a trip..._here, _down the street. They'd entered through the front door...but never came back out.

So, here Aloy was, having a suspicion there was something to dig into.

But in the name of all that was hylian and holy, this...place was damaging to all of her senses.

She was immediately taken aback – in the worst way – by a six foot-tall cardboard cutout of a bulky man in blue spandex, rippling with muscles. Guarding the doorway, seemingly. He wore a helmet en-crested with a falcon, a black visor over his eyes (eerily hidden), with a _huge, _toothy grin above his bizarrely large chin. A yellow...scarf(?) around his neck, and he had on flashy boots and gloves. Looked vaguely familiar, some kind of old race-car driver from those...race-car...sports.

He had one fist on his hip, the other touting a pristine-looking sub sandwich. He had a large speech bubble shouting out,

{ Falcon..._**LUNCH!**_ }  
{_ ( B$ 6.99 ) _}

Aloy nearly shuddered at the sheer culmination of so many things she harbored disdain for.

"Welcome to the Snack Falcon," blurted the gravel-edged voice of some stout, short, goth-looking girl from the front counter of this...insidiously tacky-looking gas-station-esque store. It was like all of the things Aloy disliked about gas-station stores, only...without the _gas station, _and thus no...real function to her.

As Aloy approached the counter, she noticed the attendant seemed off-put by her presence.

"Need help...finding anything, Officer?"

Aloy noted the Snack Falcon branded name tag: { **Mae** }  
In permanent marker were two initials scribbled in the corner of the tag: {_**NB plz **_}

What? _Ah, _OK. So, 'non-binary?'  
So, goth-looking _person_, then. Aloy stood corrected.

"Good afternoon," Aloy said tiredly, errantly flipping through the store's...chewing gum collection. She opted against it. Swerving her attention back to the clerk, Aloy asked, "Are you the manager here?"

The attendant's eyes widened briefly, a laugh spilling from _their _nostrils.

"Nuh-uh," they replied, when Aloy's stiff glance demanded a clear-cut response. Thumbing the back corner of the building, the clerk explained, "You're in luck, though. He's in today."

Aloy's fingers drummed against the counter delicately as she eyed what appeared to be the back office.

She didn't want to just go..._barging _in. Seemed a bit rude, even if she had good reason to be here.

"You can just go right in," said the employee with a dismissive wave of their wrist.

_**-DEEN-dooon-**_

A new customer entered.

"Welcome to the Snack Falcon..."

Aloy decided to let the poor worker do their...undoubtedly exciting job. Approaching the back door, she knocked on it.

Some kind of...vague, grumbling voice came from within.

Um. OK, well.

Aloy removed her cap, running her hand through her hair with trepidation. Shoving the hat back on tightly, Aloy entered. What greeted her was a cluttered, cramped hallway full of supplies. The jazz music from the store floor was muffled and weak, now exposing Aloy's ears to be attacked.

A blathering voice from the office to Aloy's right pierced her aural vulnerability with a groan of, "Whasha need?"

"Hi," Aloy greeted bluntly, quick to pull out her badge ID. "Officer Nora. APD." She tucked her ID away, eager to get out of this place ASAP. "Are you the manager here?"

Rummaging through a filing cabinet – which was clearly..._not _being used to store files, but an assortment of random, junk – was a small-statured, bulbous nosed gent with a manic look about him. He wore baggy navy-blue slacks which slightly slipped off his hips and a mangy-looking blue cap to match, similarly too large for his head. Dressed in a button-down blue shirt with white stripes – yet buttoned unevenly, and not tucked in – he didn't even seem to be paying her any mind.

"Hello?" Aloy said, trying to get his attention a second time.

He paused, gaped at her, then went back to his search.

"Heyaaa, lady, officer, missus. Ehhh, howzit going and all that? Yea?"

He picked up a stapler, clicked it, watched a staple fall to the floor (which was pretty gross, for the record, yes, Aloy might relish remarking on this _in _said official record) then...repeated the same process, once again watching a staple fall to the floor.

_Hoo, _Din's Fire, _this _was...going to be a delightful time, wasn't it? Of all the leads to follow up on by herself...

The odd creature before her who _apparently _managed this establishment seemed incapable of not uttering weird noises, grunts, and the like. Near constantly.

"Look, um-..." Aloy watched as he stapled a folder. Closed. Repeatedly.

"So anyways," the man mumbled, still disregarding her presence with his body language. "You got something for me, or what?"

Right. Well, _this _sure seemed like a place where dirty dealings went down, didn't it?  
A bit unsettling, too, that the man's first reaction at seeing a _cop _was to ask something like that.  
But Aloy wasn't here for that, she could...maybe slip that to the Captain, let her assign someone else.

'Got something for me?' _Ugh._

"I have...a _request _for you," Aloy said with trepidation. "Can I review your CCTV?"

"_Ensh? _What for, why, how's it to ya?" The way he spoke in whiny tones through his teeth with basically every syllable was grating. "Just a man running his business, ya know, good deals for honest everyman folks."

Oh, _pff, _now she had his attention, huh? He was putting on his best innocent face.  
'His best' was still not very good.

Fretful that this guy might not comprehend her, Aloy still went about her job with courtesy.

Asserting herself toward the dinged up little television on a metal cabinet in the corner, Aloy noted that it was displaying what appeared to be exactly the closed camera feed she was looking for.

"I don't...want to waste your time, you seem...-" Aloy slowed her sentence to a pause, watching this weirdo insert the folder he had _just _stapled shut into a paper shredder. The noise interrupted her sentence. She waited for it to pass, then finished, "You seem _busy, _so...-"

"Always, sure, yea...Lotsa people folk, always in and out..." The manager was locking up his filing cabinet with a worn expression.

Scrounging around through a haphazard stack of videotapes by the CCTV system, Aloy explained, "A couple weeks or so back, a pair of young women went missing. Local surveillance puts them at _this _location the last time they were seen."

"O, oh my, no good. That's no good, it isn't. Wouldn't wanna be un-co-operative like with that, no sir. Miss. No, Missus."

Rolling her eyes but stopping herself half way, Aloy's held-in breath of irritation drizzled out with _some _relief. Thank goodness. Aloy got the feeling she scared this skeevy shop-keep, which ought to mean this would be quick.

She tracked down a tape that..._looked _like it ought to have the appropriate date's feed? It had the appropriate numerical days on it, but...-

"How do you organize this?" Aloy asked.

"Days of the month, yep."

There...only appeared to be one month's worth of tapes present, however. She tried peeking in the cabinet drawers beneath, but...no other tapes to be found.

"And...previous months?"

"No need, no need. Just tape over the old one."

Her teeth practically _grinding _together at how many kinds of _not OK this was, _Aloy hoped that since it had not been a full month yet, the data on the corresponding days would still be there. She finagled with the old tech – which her peers often seemed to struggle with, but which came naturally to her – and quickly went about reviewing the video. This first entailed rewinding the thing, as it was at the end of its tape.

As Aloy scoped out the video footage, fast-forwarding through it on this archaic technology, she couldn't...help being distracted by all of the..._weird _noises this, erh, 'respectable business proprietor' was making. It got to a point where it was outright distracting. Not to mention the continuing stapling and paper shredding.

"Sir?"

"Oh, 'sir.' Police never say 'sir' to me. Always 'hey you' or 'Ron' or 'lemme see it' or-"  
"Right, yes, _uhhhmm..._-" Aloy's lips had to be unglued to finish her thought. "Could you _perhaps_...quiet down a bit? Please?"

The man's bug-eyes flashed with a self-aware alarm, his mouth sealing shut in an instant.

Aloy, noting the lack of name tag on his wrinkled shirt, asked him kindly, "What's your name, Sir?"

"Ron. Yep. I'm Ron. Falcon Ron."

Trying to placate him, Aloy added, "Well, Ron, you...seem like such a busy guy, and the quicker I can do this, the quicker I can get out of here."

"H, hey, yea, shoor," he murmured, a certain self-defeated look about him. "I'll just be out there, like I am, doing my own thing, you have at it, as you will."

As the bizarre man exited the garbage dump of a room at last, Aloy had some space to do her work in peace.

It took a few minutes of wiping to get to the time stamp region that Aloy was interested in, and partway through her fast-forwarding process, the TV flickered – as did the lights. Aloy's head throbbed with a flicker of pain, not unlike those she'd been experiencing recently. _Damnit, not right now, not in this creepy place..._But, unlike those other times, this was a flash, merely a second, then gone.

Quickly recovering, Aloy noticed the slop of odds and ends she was entrenched in had all shifted. Some kind of tremor? Earthquakes were known to occur in Arcadia – usually minute, subtle, nothing to be alarmed about. Still gave her an uneasy feeling, though.

Finally, Aloy had spotted what she was looking for.

Thankfully, there they were! Those two girls – Luna and Senua. They entered, looking fine, having a good time, if a bit sluggish from their eating contest. They went to the main counter, spoke to...what was his name? 'Falcon Ron.' Huh, they seemed friendly enough with him. For_ some _damned reason...

Definitely looked like they knew him well, based on the nonverbal cues. He led them out back, to the office area Aloy was standing in. Miraculously, the old technology was recording from four separate cameras. The entrance door, two angles of the shop to cover its entire area, and this back office.

Aloy's attention shifted to the corner of the screen portraying Ron's...oh-so-welcoming office space.

What was _this, _now? The girls were emptying their pockets, dropping all manner of odds and ends on Ron's desk. Some jewelry, a watch, a prescription bottle? A cell phone? _Yikes. _To Aloy's dismay, Ron reviewed the items, tapping away at a grimy desktop calculator, and made some kind of exchange, shoving the items into a drawer of his...filing cabinet. And then letting the girls deliberate over something in return. Aloy couldn't quite make out what they ended up deciding upon, but whatever it was, it appeared to be stored in a resealable plastic bag, which Ron tidily folded into one of the paper bags he had stacked _beside _the filing cabinets.

_A little backdoor pawnshop operation going on here, eh, Falcon Ron?_

_Hoo, _hoho, this little lard of a man thought he could just _pull _this kind of shit, in _Aloy's _city? He'd sure given himself up pretty easily. How had no one caught this guy up until now?

But just as the girls prepared to leave, the video..._freaked _out. Went black. Aloy fast-forwarded a bit, noting the time difference – approximately twelve minutes – and Mr. Falcon Ron was alone, in the back office, switching on various devices. Hm. Some kind of power outage? Aloy struggled to see if she could find anything, but...nope. The girls were gone.

Well, wait, hold up. The shop looked a bit messier than it had been. Like an entire aisle had been messed up. Sign of a struggle? Fast-forwarding, and Falcon Ron had gone about trying to clean up. Another employee eventually showed up to help. Customers in and out...hm.

"Ron?!" Aloy called out, wanting to get the man's input on what had happened.

Aloy went back through the footage, her eyes locked onto the old glass monitor.

Shortly after the girls had followed Ron into the back room, two individuals had meandered on up to the store's entrance. But they didn't go inside. They just...hovered there, glancing inside, talking to each other.

Couldn't get a good look at them, either, not from the camera's angle. Aloy paused, using her phone to take a shot of the time stamp to try and cross reference with whatever surveillance footage they could use. Maybe get a better image of these two.

Oh, she intended to get some backup here to search for evidence, shut down this operation Ron was up to, but she wasn't going to let that process slow her down. She tried taking pictures of the mysterious figures, which...was a bit difficult, with a phone, onto an old CRT TV, playing back VHS footage.

But she was going to study it all the same.

The front desk was left entirely unsupervised as Ron spoke with the girls in his office. Fair enough, no one else was in the shop.

Until they were.

One of the two figures out front was wearing a plain brown coat with some some off-white puffy trim, a dark beanie, and a thick, woolly scarf over their face, with plain black shades covering their eyes. The other was dressed in a dark hoodie, with a bandanna over their mouth, and large, purple sunglasses. Aspects of their outfits led Aloy to believe they were representing _Los Muertos, _that gang she and Lena had been tracking down a couple of members of not long ago. Well, actually, no...Even that didn't seem right. Only one of them seemed to be dressed that way – the one in the hoodie. The other was exceedingly plain, without any indication of representing the gang. Odd, _Los Muertos _members would actively want their reputation visible when out and about, wouldn't they?

The person in the hoodie was browsing a phone, while the one in the beanie was keeping watch, glancing into the store periodically and across the street, back and forth. They were only there for about thirty seconds, and even seemed to get into some kind of heated discussion for a moment, their body language erupting at one another before...cut to black.

Hm. Aloy replayed the few seconds of footage. Not much to go off of. _Maybe _they could determine height? Skin tone _sort of._ That was about it. The person holding their phone had paused, too, holding out their hand...toward the shop? What? Then snapping their finger? It _looked _like they snapped their finger...just as the power went dead.

So they had caused the power outage, somehow. Timed it? What the hell?  
All of this fuss, over what, kidnapping two young women living in poverty?  
Aloy kept replaying the footage, trying to absorb any extra details.

Wait, wait, wait.

Right at the end, before the power had gotten cut, when they were arguing...-

The person in the brown coat had turned away from their companion, tossing their arms around, maybe yelling? But what caught Aloy's attention was how they seemed to recoil in pain for a second. They'd clutched their arm, rolling up their sleeve, _squeezing _at their right arm, like it was aching, burning, something like that.

It wasn't for very long – a second or so of footage, but for _just _a moment, as they shook pain off of their arm before pulling their sleeve back up, Aloy could make out that their right arm seemed to be covered in black ink. Some kind of arm-wrapping tattoo. Pretty big, as well. Couldn't make out what the tattoo _was, _but still useful. It wasn't like they'd be able to plug this crummy VHS footage into some magical whiz computer, shout '_ENHANCE_,' and miraculously get a clear image and recreation of the tattoo's design. Hm, if Aloy had to guess, though, looked...like vegetation? Maybe? Some kind of tree? Or leaves? Or maybe it was a fish? Or even...a dragon?

Well, it was something, at least. It was a large tattoo, all in black. So that was _something _to work with. Aloy took another closeup shot of it with her phone.

And the signs of a struggle after the fact only seemed to confirm what Aloy had been fearing and suspecting this whole time: that these girls had been kidnapped.

**"Ron!"** Aloy shouted again, ejecting the video tape. Guy had never come in when she'd called in, what the hell?

Irritated at this whole mess, Aloy burst out of the office, the tape in hand, shoved open the door to the store floor, and was ready to belt his name out again, only he was right in front of her.

They gaped at each other awkwardly for a second. _Hah, _oh, he _knew _he was in trouble, didn't he?

Noticing the customers present in the store, Aloy bobbed her head back, gesturing Ron to follow her. He did so, shaking and squirming. Aloy caught a glance of the store clerk smirking with satisfaction, like a grade-schooler laughing at a fellow student getting called to the principle's office.

Lowering her voice as they re-entered his office, Aloy testily asked, "Is there anything you want to _tell _me about? Anything _suspicious _that might have happened in your store recently?"

Ron gawked at her. Aloy was worried he might drool on his own shirt, but wiped his lip and sniffed, then shrugged.

Aloy could feel her fist tighten at her hip. Pulling out the photo on her phone depicting the pair of women at the Big Bang Burger, Aloy showed it to him.

She tried to prod politely, "Do you recognize either of these two?"

Ron's face lit up, and he nodded energetically, jaw slightly agape.

"Ahh, yea, shoor, yep! Senua, I know that one. And Fae. Fae the Fair." _AGAIN with a different name? How many names does this girl have? _"Nice gals, very nice, always nice to me, not like most."

"Uh-_huh_." Aloy felt her suspicions dipping, some guilt creeping in at how she was thinking about and treating this man. He was still a criminal, from the looks of it, though. No need to go soft. "Well. Did you see anything _happen _to them? The last time they were here, I mean."

Falcon Ron shrugged, shaking his head.

"Naw, they got out the back so's they were all right."

Aloy could feel her face twitch and wrinkle with confusion.

"'All right?' What-...What _happened?_" she pressed.

"Wait, so, yea, no, they're OK, yea? Ya know, aww, that's not good. I ain't seen Fae in a while, longer time than usual. Is that, them, I mean, they're the missing people yoor lookin' for?"

_Egh. _He looked concerned now. He didn't seem all too good at hiding his emotions, so maybe Aloy had been a bit hasty in her judgment.

She wasn't really supposed to discuss details of the case, but...-

"I'm looking for them, yes. So, you _know _them, they were _here_...but then what?"

"Ah, power went out, couple nasties got in, started makin' a whole noise, lotta noise. Mess of my stuff, and ya see, I don't like that, stuff's gotta look nice out there, bad for business, makin' a mess."

Aloy glanced down at her feet, gently nudging an empty, crushed cereal box with her boot.

Ron blathered on, "So there's I was, in the dark, lotta yellin', they shoved me a bit. I'm OK, don't you worry about ol' Ron. They went all stormin' around to the back, thought they were stealing, but ah-_ahhh_~" He proudly waved his key. "Can't steal what they can't open."  
He looked...so proud. If they had intended to _rob _the guy, surely they'd have forced the keys off of him.

"And you didn't think to...call the _cops?_" Aloy pushed warily.

"Oh, no-no, not cops. _The _cop. Always the one."

"Huh?"

"Jo, good Jo, big Jo, _strong _Jo. I give her a call when somethin' happens, she cleans it up when she can, lets me clean up the rest."

'Jo?' Hm. Something else to look into.

"Anyways," Ron was concluding, "ain't nothin' to bother Jo for. She's busy, busier than me, busier than you, ain't got time for wasting. Those two nasties, they left out back, nobody took nothing, no bother and no worries from me. I just cleaned up, and it was all right."

Aloy tried to piece this together.

Senua and 'Fae' – Luna – came in. Made a trade with Ron.  
The power went out, two strangers invaded the store, taking advantage of the chaos.  
And it _looked _like planned chaos. Organized.  
The girls ran out the back.  
The strangers roughed up Ron a bit, then..._also _went out back.  
Likely chasing their targets.

So whoever these strangers were, it _sure seemed _like they were after the two kids.  
Aloy was hesitant without evidence, but should she start calling her missing persons 'victims?'  
She hoped they were OK.  
It was definitely starting to look like they hadn't just 'run away,' or if they had, it had been provoked.

Her mind mixed around some possibilities. Maybe they owed money? Maybe they'd stolen from someone they shouldn't have?

"Well, jeez, so those nice gals are missing now, huh? Aw, that's a shame, real shame."

_Eesh. _Ron was...something. He sure was something.  
How did he _manage _this place? Aloy didn't mean to be rude, but...-

"That's all I know, Missus, Ma'am, that's it and everything." Ron was beginning to get jumpy. "Are you-...You gonna take that?" He gestured at the video tape in her hand.

"I am," Aloy replied, her grip tightening on it. There was potential evidence of criminal activity related to her case. Well, that and _actual _evidence of a crime, given Ron's little side-hustle going on.

"You really gotta do that?" Ron checked, his face scrunching up uncertainly. "Jo never does that. Never. Why do you gotta take it?"

"I'm not '_Jo_,'" Aloy specified, her cracked patience in pieces, drifting apart at this point.

"Oh, but she's not gonna like it if you take that," Ron sighed, rubbing at his face disparagingly.

_So, yes. __**Definitely**__ going to look into this 'Jo' person now, _Aloy decided.

"My Dad won't like it, either," grumbled Ron, almost on the verge of tears. "No, nope, he definitely won't. Needs those thingamajigs to stay here, ya know? _Oh _no, he's-...Oh, what time is it?" He was checking his watch in a fluster.

"Your dad?" Maybe Aloy was beginning to understand how this worked...

"_Ohhh, _yea. My Dad, he's on his way here, he doesn't much like folks like you, who go asking questions. No sir." Ron was starting to shove at Aloy a bit, which was awkward, given their height difference. "You oughtta leave, best for both of us. Might get mad if he sees you here, you understand."

"I'm taking this," Aloy stated firmly, brandishing the tape.

"Fine fine, shoor, ya gotta take what's not yours, what you ain't traded for, but he's not gonna like it..."

Disgruntled, Aloy nudged the short man's grubby hands off of her and saw her way out, not even in the right mental state to give him a good-bye.

"G'night!" bad the attendant at the counter. Aloy couldn't imagine what it had to be like, working such a disgusting job under such a miserable man. And she wasn't going to try imagining it.

She had more important things to look into.

Heading to her car, she gave Captain Amari a ring.

[ "Nora? What did you find?" ]

"They were here," Aloy responded, crossing the parking lot. "They-..._uff-!_" She bumped into some small-statured, fat-faced man in a hoodie and scarf, like he'd just shown up out of nowhere and _plowed _against her.

"woops," he muttered, hands in his pockets, waddling along.

Guy just...kept on going! Ran himself into a police officer and had the audacity to just _keep on going. _No apology or anything!

From being lauded and respected in Meridian to _this _bullshit, people breaking the law, crooked police, maybe? Aloy ought to-  
[ "So you confirmed the subjects' whereabouts." ]

Just as she'd spun around to chastise the rude idiot, Amari had brought her back to.

_**-DEEN-dooon-**_

Jerk went into the shop like nothing had happened.

"I, uh, I did," she confirmed to Amari.

[ "And? Discover anything?" ]

Gripping the video tape in her hand carefully, the phone held up with her other arm, Aloy let the rude pedestrian off and reached her car.

Setting the tape down on the car's roof to pull out her keys while on the phone, Aloy's hands were shivering. She'd left her coat in the car, and _damn, _it was pretty chilly out, the sun already setting.

"And-..." She unlocked her door with a cold shudder up her spine. "_Ffff~ _Something went down, I think there were people _chasing _these girls." She swiped up the tape, dropping it into the passenger seat, lamenting Lena's absence.

[ "Mm..." ]

"Not to mention, the guy...-" Shoved herself into her seat with a grunt. "-..._running_ this place is _definitely _up to some illicit activities on the side." She scooped up her jacket, tossing it on.

[ "You have evidence?" ] she could hear Amari ask from a slight distance as she slid her hand through her coat sleeve. [ "Something definitive?" ]

Sticking her key into the ignition, Aloy realized she was...being kind of dumb, right? Trying to talk on the phone and drive without her ear piece. But then...with how it'd been acting up lately...-

With some hesitation, she pulled it out of her breast pocket, put it on, and connected it to her phone, sticking her phone in an empty cup holder.

[ "Nora?" ]

"Sorry." She turned the ignition, starting the car up. "Yea, I've got CCTV footage, I mean, definitive in one sense, but posing new questions in another. I'm going to have Lena give it a closer look when she's back from her appointment." She began to pull her car out of the lot. "And then there's someone the manager mentioned, sounded suspicious – 'Jo?' You know any officers with-"

_OH SHIT-!_

That man from a few moments before had walked right in front of Aloy's car, causing Aloy to slam the brakes. Her vehicle skidded a little in all of the wintry slush. What the _hell, _hadn't he _just _gone into the store?!

"_Hey!_" Aloy growled through her car windows. She honked her horn when the man just _stood _there, his back turned. He was barely tall enough for her to see his silhouette against the car's hood. What the _fuck_? Aloy was not in the mood for this. She rolled down her window, spitting at her phone call, "Sorry, Captain, there's a pedestrian, they're-..._Hey!_"

The man had started walking off. Blue hoodie...scarf. Something about him felt weirdly familiar, and yet he simultaneously felt like any other drunken bum strolling a street.

[ "Aloy, what's going on?" ]

"_Nn_-...Nothing, I...-" Aloy shook it off, her car still running, stopped in the middle of the cramped lot. That man was gone. Like he'd vanished, or something. Had it all been another weird hallucination? If so, it'd felt different than the ones Aloy had been experiencing. "Anyway, sorry, Ma'am, got distracted." Aloy took a moment to breathe before rolling her window back up and pulling the car out.

[ "Hm. You mentioned another officer?" ]

"_Oh. _Yea, yes. _Right. _Someone named 'Jo?'"

[ "They were involved? In this incident?" ]

"Huh? Wh-...I mean, I'm not sure, but the manager mentioned-"  
[ "Mm. Let me deal with that. You have your case, your orders. If it's not connected-" ]  
"I don't _know _if it's connected yet, Ma'am, it-"  
[ "Have you already forgotten the conditions _you _agreed to just an _hour _ago?" ]

Aloy had stopped at a red light, slightly late, she was so distraught. Her head was throbbing, her heart was racing a bit quicker than she'd prefer.

"I-...No, Ma'am. Not at all."

[ "Because the paperwork regarding your promotion hasn't even been processed yet, _Officer _Nora." ]

Aloy was frustrated. This was not settling well with her. Being promoted to Detective would give her access to more resources, more privileges than she currently had, though. Why was Amari being so double-faced about this whole thing? She wanted Aloy to work hard, work her case, but not _too _thoroughly? What? It made no fucking sense, and it was really pissing her off. If Amari was doing this just to _mess _with her, just to prove some point about 'being a cop' or something...-

_But...-_

"I read you loud and clear, Captain. I apologize. A lot going on today."

[ "Understood." ] Skeptical tone. [ "Come back to the station." ]

"Roger."

The call ended, leaving Aloy to wait a few quiet seconds as her light changed, her shoulders shaking slightly, her fingers a little numb. _Brrr, _this damn cold...-

She went to turn the heating on. But the corner of her eye caught something off. She afforded a moment to check what it was.

The video tape she'd just acquired? And had _most certainly _placed in the passenger's seat...-

It wasn't there.

Seized by confusion, Aloy used all of her self-control to keep her eyes on the road, follow traffic...just a few more seconds and...-

She parked at the first empty curb she found, and immediately turned on her car's inside lights.

Not in the seat where she'd left it. Not on the floor. Not _under _the seat.  
Not behind it. Not in the backseat. Not under the driver's seat, just...-

What the fuck?

It was _gone_. Like she'd never _had _it.

Shakily peeling her earpiece off – she _had _held that video tape, in her _hand_, before she'd even put on her earpiece, right? It wasn't like...this earpiece was just...making her imagine things. Why was she associating things with it? It was a fucking _bluetooth piece._

_OK, OK, forget the damn thing, think about what happened._

She'd put the tape in the car.  
She'd gotten in the car.  
She'd pulled out of the lot.  
And now the tape was gone.

No, yea, Ron had even _whined _about her taking it!  
She _knew _she'd had it, _moments _ago.  
_  
Something's not right.  
A few somethings, probably..._

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"What do you _mean_...'escaped?'" The soft-toned shrieking was, to Moira's ear, quite sharp and unpleasant. It was also unrelenting. "How would they 'escape?' From _what? _From _where? _And why? Why, _Doctor, _would they have cause to 'escape' if these procedures are as sound as you've claimed?"

Moira felt oddly intimidated by the imposing figure of Toriel, this persistently meddlesome maternal menace in her life as of late. By Moira's take, the subject had perhaps been waiting for just such an opportunity to flee from the oppressively mollifying force that was Toriel. An elderly woman with shoulder length hair of white (curiously well-maintained, by Moira's estimation), Toriel wore a prim pair of rounded reading spectacles around her neck – their chain adorned with two mirrored sets of prayer pearls. Her startlingly bright blue eyes begat a sharp impatience that radiated from her every mannerism. Her massive violet skirt was held up by brass-buttoned shoulder straps, set over a lace-laden blouse of blue, emblazoned with Arcadia's city sigil.

When given a stout, bewildered glance from the worn-out Doctor, Toriel turned to her assistant, demanding to know, "What happened?!"

"The-...The check-up was...routine...-" Alas, Miss Urushibara did not yet see what Moira did: that there was to be no reasoning with Toriel, especially given the _un_reasonable circumstances. "Please, Ma'am, I-...I understand you're upset, but...I promise, we are doing all in our power to...i-identify what went wrong, and-"  
"All in your _power_," Toriel scoffed, nudging past Ruka, closing distance to Moira.

"Yes, Ma'am," Ruka insisted, swallowing her fears from mere minutes prior as best she could.

"We had no reason to believe something like this would happen," Moira stoutly defended. "Everything went according to protocol. These unforeseen side-effects of the subject's latent abilities are beyond our reckoning."

"They were in a _sealed testing room_," Toriel barked, nearly spitting in Moira's face. "What-? _How _does one so small '_escape_' a facility as secure as this?! What kind of incompetence-?!"  
"It _vanished_," Moira flatly explained. "The testing, the check-up, the sleep study, it all went as smoothly as _any _other instance, but as soon as the procedure was over?" Moira turned to poor Ruka, who was still a bit shaken from the ordeal.

"What _happened?_" Toriel repeated with a softer tone but a sterner expression, whirling back to Ruka.

But Miss Urushibara, her trembling hands fumbling together, tucked her arms behind her back, shaking her head as her eyes watered up. The fragile thing, this was probably too traumatizing to relive, even in words.

So, Moira unceremoniously lifted her tablet from beneath her arm and connected to the surveillance server.

"The subject produced a _knife_," Moira sighed, the entire thing having been quite the inconvenience.

"Excuse me?" Toriel huffed in offense. "No. My child is incapable of...-" But her expression flickered with doubt as she trailed off. "_How_?" she then questioned, refocusing. "How could a _child _even _enter _this place with something like that?"

"Ehh-Excuse me, Doctor?" Ruka was piping up, like a small bird in a rainstorm. "May...I...-?"

"You are excused, Urushibara," Moira stated plainly. Inbetween taps at her tablet's screen, she brandished her long fingers out in a dismissive gesture. "Please consult Makise prior to your departure."

Ruka bowed sharply, quickly, spat out a quivering, "Yes, Ma'am, thank you," and whisked her willow-like form off down the hall.

"What are you _doing_?" Toriel snarled, nearly stomping a boot at how casually Moira was swiping at her device.

"I am recalling footage of what transpired," Moira sighed dryly. "I request that you please _contain _your passion, Madame. Outbursts will only make this situation more difficult to manage."

Toriel's face looked like it was about to combust.

"You _lost_...my _child_," she seethed through clenched jaws, at least attempting to follow Moira's request.

"Your child lost _itself. _And bear in mind, _Madame, _it is technically _ours_,in point of fact."

"_Them. _Not 'it.'"

"Yes, yes, _them_selves_._" Actually, now that Moira had a clearer understanding of the subject's circumstances, perhaps 'them' was, indeed, a much better word to describe it. Moira flipped the tablet around to show Toriel the footage.

After what appeared to be a rather routine check-up on the subject's vitals and reactions to stimuli – maybe _too _routine, in retrospect – the subject produced a sharp kitchen knife. Upon review, it was quite unclear _where _the knife came from. The sub-..._ahem, _the 'child,' if it was insisting to be called as such, simply _had _a knife after previously _not _possessing one. They had been stripped down to conduct the medical tests. There was absolutely no way the 'child' had brought the knife _with _them into the facility, on their person. It was a physical impossibility.

Instead, it seemed they had _retrieved _the instrument somehow. Moira assumed Dr. Gaster might have theories to corroborate with her own, but, of course, the buffoon was nowhere to be found in all of the commotion currently sweeping over FutureGadget and its partnering facility.

"Wh-...Where did they...-?" Toriel murmured, aghast at sight of the knife seemingly appearing from behind the child's back, out of thin air.

Having drawn the weapon while being escorted out of the testing chamber by Miss Urushibara, they'd startled the poor assistant quite fiercely. Their entire body language had changed in an instant, like a switch being flipped. This was in line with Toriel's descriptions of irregular behavior, mood, and temperament, though she had never described something quite like this.

Threatening Ruka with the small blade, the 'child' had been meaning to escape. Having trapped an utterly petrified Ruka in the hallway, it had-...they had required Ruka's keycard to exit. Ruka, being much too afraid to resist, shrunk into a ball on the floor, letting the 'child' pry the card's lanyard from off her neck.

Curiously, there was no image of the card actually being obtained.

One moment, the 'child' was standing, looming over Urushibara with a knife in hand, and the the next millisecond later, they possessed the card – and their knife's blade had instantaneously transformed from clean to dirty. Nothing else around them changed, only the items in their hands. A newfound smile of satisfaction upon its face, the unsettling abomination strained their tiny arm up to the card-reader, unlocked the door, then...disappeared.

Security had been on their way in, intersecting the very pathway required to exit, yet had not seen any trace of the subject.

Rewinding and replaying the footage for Toriel, Moira snapped her finger in Toriel's face. "See, there? Here one moment, then elsewhere the next. The subject was _gone_. Quick as a blink."

This got Toriel to stay quiet, but just for a moment. Moira could see her wrinkled eyes straining to one side as that child-addled brain tried to piece things together.

"No," Toriel uttered, a wash of self-aware denial dripping down her forlorn expression. She shook her head, as if the more she denied it, the less true it would become. Fumbling back a step, she bemoaned under her breath, "Not again. This wasn't supposed to-...The entire reason I _trusted _you with them was to _prevent _this from...-"

Ah. Yes. She was beginning to cry, now.  
Lovely...

"I am not one for condolences," Moira bitterly advised, sleeping her tablet and tucking it back against her. "Instead, I seek resolutions. Rest assured, we will be doing everything we can to locate and retrieve...-" Moira paused, watching the woman wipe tears from her eyes. Begrudgingly, Moira finished, "-...your child."

"What's _happened _to them?" Toriel was murmuring. "Are they...being _controlled, _or-...?"

"I do not believe it is that simple."

"You said they were...their _own _person."

"They _are_," Moira defended her research. Drumming her fingertips together, she contemplated, "I will concede, certain..._means_ had to be navigated, in order to create them, as they are. That being said, _this _matter is quite unexpected. They should retain complete control of their faculties, and, so we believed, they _did. _It would appear we were incorrect."

"Is Frisk _trapped _in their own body? Is-..." Toriel paused, her lips hanging. Her eyes flickered, then squinted shut. Her lips tightened closed as the worry they were both considering hovered around them.

"They are not _trapped_," Moira dismissed. "They _are, _by all accounts, their own individual. However, it _does _seem as if...they have company, I might presume."

"They look the _same_," Toriel uttered grimly. "You _told _me that didn't _matter. _That it was...just a natural result of the DNA you used, and...-"

"This is _entirely _new territory for us, you must understand," Moira pushed back. "_Surely _the notion passes through your mind, yes? That we have never _done _this before? That there could be unforeseen circumstances?"

"Is it...-?" Toriel stopped herself from yelling – thankfully – sucked in a deep breath through her nose, and took another moment to collect herself. In a hushed, irate, but controlled manner, she posed the hypothesis, "Is it..._possible, _Dr. O'Deorain, that my child – the one _you _created, the one _you _insist is an entirely new, unique individual – might, in fact, still be my _other _child?"

"The original?" Moira sought clarification, though more as a means to buy time to consider how plausible this was and extrapolate her own conclusion.

"The one whose _DNA _you used," Toriel frustratingly spat.

Moira's chin lifted slightly. Her eyes wandered. She considered the possibility.  
She always _had _considered that the 'original' specimen, long passed from this plane of existence, did, in fact, remain connected to Subject Seven somehow. That had not been the plan, nor had it even seemed evident upon the subject's genesis. But as time progressed, it was seeming to be more and more apparent.

After giving it a moment's contemplation, O'Deorain replied neutrally, "Given all you've told us about both the original specimen _and _the subject we created, it..._is _theoretically possible that they are...connected, perhaps in a more intimate manner than we initially surmised."

"Only they can _disappear _now," snapped Toriel. "And-...And 'produce'_ knives_?!"

Moira's eyes widened with impatience and she shrugged, nodding half-heartedly.

"So it would seem," she concluded simply.

"_So. It. Would. __**Seem**_," Toriel repeated with readily apparent fury. Tossing her arms up, she whirled away, blathering. "This was supposed to be a _fresh start, _a new beginning, but _instead, _it's just...bringing _everything _from back then, all _boiling _back up to the surface! I should've _known, _as _soon _as that bumbling _oaf _proposed this entire..._thing, _I should've _known, _right then and there, that it would end up like this, he was _never_...-"

"O'Deorain!"

Ah. A bit later than anticipated – likely touching base with Ruka – but there was Chief Makise.

Chief Makise was a few years Moira's junior but no less an expert in her field: neuro-science. Having co-founded this entire enterprise with her maliciously manufactured persona of a spouse, Kurisu Makise was at once a soft-hearted woman with an increasingly tactless exterior that grew pricklier with age. She was known to talk sweet and kind in the face of certain individuals, but everyone else received a deliciously sharp tone that often commanded respect. While wrinkles had begun to show on her rounded face, often molded into a stern, stoic expression, Makise's keen hazel eyes always conveyed her feelings transparently – typically either impatient frustration or excited curiosity. She was a bit of a gangly woman, not unlike Moira herself, and had a penchant for wearing loose red neck ties. But where Moira maintained appearances in as much as whatever was efficient, Makise made more of a fuss over her appearance, from her carefully curated crimson locks of hair to the specific brands of jackets or eyeglasses she adorned.

At the end of the day, however, all differences aside, Kurisu Makise and Moira O'Deorain both were in their elements adorned in coats of white, pursuing truth. It was this simple base from which the entirety of their relationship was built and maintained. There had grown to become a mutual unspoken understanding between them: Moira required the resources Kurisu provided to continue her research, and Kurisu required Moira's unmatched talents to do the same. Kurisu studied the mind, and Moira the body, and that covered an extensive array of what was required.

"Madame," Moira greeted plainly.

"Don't you 'Madame' me, what-...?" Hah. Ever the flustered one, but like Toriel beside her, Makise calmed herself enough to communicate properly. "_What _the hell happened? Ruka says the subject..._'escaped?'_"

"Have you not yet reviewed the cameras?" Moira posed.

"I-...Why?" Makise shoved her hands into her lab coat, casting a wary glance at Toriel. "Are you all right, Ma'am?" she checked.

Toriel shook her head.

"Is there...-?" Kurisu went to ask, but Toriel was heading off down the hall.

"I need the restroom," Toriel uttered drearily.

Kurisu paused, baffled and alarmed, and flashed Moira an enraged expression.

She demanded, "Did you go tinkering with the Anomaly just now? Is _that _what happened? Because I just got my _head _chewed off by Vaswani. Apparently their facility experienced some kind of malfunction, and it _sounds _like it happened precisely when your precious 'subject' escaped. That _can't _be a coincidence. Did you in _any _way utilize the Anomaly?"

With a dull-eyed, dry expression, Moira handed the tablet over to Kurisu to inspect.

"I did _no such thing, _I assure you," Moira responded, a bit offended at the notion. "The schedule was made quite clear. _Nothing _about this appointment was irregular, up until we concluded. And need I remind you, Makise, this is not 'my' subject, this is _our _subject. _You _made the call to pursue this venture."

Kurisu the mind, and Moira the body.

Though there _was _the matter of the third, and arguably least tenable though most critical component involved in Subject Seven's creation. Too bad the good Dr. Gaster was no longer in a state fitting enough to properly maintain or assist with it. His precious assistant, Alphys, had gone turncoat after a debilitating 'accident' to work under the banner of Zaibatsu and its Aperture division.

"Stop tossing semantics at me," Kurisu grumbled, "and just _show _me what the hell went wrong."

Off-put by the Chief's demeaning posturing, Moira reminded (aware of the self-irony), "I have half a mind to abandon this project altogether if you don't wish to claim responsibility..."

Panning through the video footage, Makise took a breath, running her hand across her ears to tuck crimson hair away.

"Right," she sighed. "No, you're...right, I apologize, I'm a little high-strung, there's...a lot going on all at once, here." To Kurisu's cooled-off concession, Moira nodded, conveying her patience and understanding. Makise was easily flustered, but just as quick to temper herself toward the task at hand. It was perhaps that very combination that made her effective. "_Something _has happened with the Anomaly," she explained, "and it seems to have affected both our _and _Aperture's facilities, and_-...Oh. _Ohhhh, mah-..._What?_" Her eyes had bugged out and her jaw had gone slack as she watched the footage. "Explain what I'm looking at. Please?"

"The subject's capabilities are obviously beyond what we anticipated."

"_Nothing _that we utilized in their creation, it-..." Kurisu's eyes were intense as she studied the brief bit of footage as second time. "None of the base components seemed connected to...whatever _this is_."

"It's rather latent, isn't it? The mother suspects it is some run off from the DNA source we drew upon."

Kurisu was rubbing at an eyebrow, her brilliant mind buzzing with questions as she handed Moira back her device.

Kurisu prattled out, "I mean, _none _of our research on how these Souls function points to any kind of DNA correlation to such swings in _behavior, _much less manifestations thereof. I mean, Rán _does _correlate DNA to ease of _contact, _sure, I'll concede to that now, but not this kind of _control. _Am I incorrect?"

Moira responded, "Subject Rán appears to be in full control of her faculties, utterly self-aware within her own body. The shared DNA between her and her brother certainly serves as an antennae of sorts for establishing contact. However, Rán's DNA, while perhaps close, is _not _identical to the Soul we've come into contact with. They are siblings, not identical twins. It's speculation, regardless – as I've expressed, I am in agreement with you: it's the socio-emotional link that is more significant than the physiology. Loathe as I may be to admit it."

"But not in _this _case," Makise raised. "The subject we conceived...they wouldn't _possess _any kinds of relationships _to _connect to. None other than those which we, ourselves, inserted into the equation."

"Perhaps the unnatural point of origin has had unanticipated effects," Moira theorized. "This 'child' of ours is, after all, unlike any prior case we've established. Thoroughly so."

"It's possible that's all it is," Kurisu sighed. "Just...unintended side-effects. We'll have to track this...'child' down before...-" Her expression flinched with worry. "_Enh-...!_" Her phone was vibrating. When she looked at the phone, her face soured. Glancing up to Moira, she asked, "By the way, _where _the hell is Gaster?!"

Moira shrugged primly. In truth, she was quite furious at his absence. But it wasn't her place to administer judgment. In a manner of speaking, Gaster had been absent for quite some time, after all.

"Cited an errand of 'paramount importance' he had to attend to," Moira explained, arms crossed.

"Oh, it _better _be 'paramount,' or else I'm gonna have his _stupid _smile on a _pike _so fast th-" Kurisu, again, caught herself before an eruption, her fingers having tightened themselves around her phone. She pointed her device at Moira, commanding briskly, "Nevermind that, we have..._this_ to deal with." She swept an irritated hand at the air beside her, shaking her head. "Please look into what link there would be between the 'child's' escape and the malfunction at Aperture."

"Understood, Chief."

"Thanks, Doctor."

Makise made a call as she went off.

"Hello?...You'd _better _be, this is _serious..._Well...**good, **the quicker the better, we need to get ahead of this before it-...What?"

Moira found herself, at last, alone in the sterile but desolate hallway. Gaster was MIA (as per usual), Ruka was in no condition to do anyone any good, Kurisu was wrapped up in trying to contain the parallel problems facing the hastily constructed Aperture facility...

Had Vaswani's tampering with the Anomaly resulted in some...lapse of time-space? It could potentially explain the subject's ability. But then, it seemed rather fatefully timed. Maybe the other way way around? This was much more frightening a thought to consider. If the subject had indeed figured out ways to circumnavigate the limitations organically bred beings adhered to, it begged many questions about what 'Frisk' could be capable of – however, they were _not _capable of passing through solid objects, at least. There'd be no need for a knife or a key card otherwise. This confirmation did _not _give Moira much relief, however. More troublesome still was the evidence suggesting that the subject was not 'alone.' While their research had demonstrated utilizing linked Souls in ways that _did _manifest into physical space, it was always more like the _Soul _followed the Conduit, being guided by its actions. _Not _the other way around. But then, this was also assuming that the Conduit itself was comprised of a single Soul. Perhaps, in a way, what had transpired within her, or even Gaster, had almost occurred in _reverse _here_? _Was that even possible? Further study could potentially reveal a path to amend what had been done to them.

Assuming, at least, they could re-locate the 'child.'

Moira became so lost in her pondering, she failed to notice how her right hand, crossed over her left arm, had begun clawing its nails through her lab-coat, pinching against her skin and bruising it slightly. Irritably, she shook her hands loose, reaching for her medication. Damn, she'd gotten so caught up in this current mess of affairs, she'd neglected her schedule. Uncharacteristic, this was, and it made her quite self-aware of how startling this turn of events had become.

Trying to keep her right hand from tightening too fiercely and her left hand from shaking too widely, she accessed her tablet to make a call to Gabriel.

[ "Doc?" ]

"Yes. Reyes?"

[ "Mrgh. What is it **now?**" ]

"Be a dear and accompany Miss Calomar, would you? Something tells me she might...require your particular brand of assistance, should matters worsen."

[ "Rrrgh. Fine..." ]

"Diligent as ever," Moira remarked dryly at Gabriel's child-like bemoaning.

[ "Anything I should tell her?" ]

"...Hm." Moira had to consider this for a moment. She had some notion of what sorts of things Olivia had been getting up to in her spare time. Spreading some fire could be useful when one was meaning to raze lands for new crops. "_Tell _her...that Subject Seven has escaped our custody, and that I anticipate the means via which they achieved this have impacted the Anomaly. Or perhaps the other way around..."

[ "Damnit, Moira. Is it even safe for me to transfer over there?" ]

"Not at all, dear Gabriel. Ha. But, then, it isn't safe for you_ anywhere_ at the moment, with what is currently transpiring."

[ "Great. Thanks for the pep talk." ]

"Do enjoy your visit, and give Ms. Vaswani my regards, should your paths cross."

[ "grrhhmfff..." ]

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

[ Call from. . . **Gabe**]

Olivia was in the middle of driving through the streets at the tail end of rush hour when her phone went off with _another _fucking call! First Makise, then Vaswani, _then _Makise, now fucking _Gabe?_

She ignored the call for now, letting it go to voicemail. She needed to think, here, get her ducks in a row, then she'd call him back. He was probably being sent to be her 'chaperon' or something.

Using her voice, she spoke to her device's OS. "Cortana?"

[ "Yes, Olivia?" ]

"Call Alma Armas."

[ "Calling. . ." ]  
[ **"Alma Armas"**]

Her hacker colleague's voice came in through the speaker system as Olivia continued to drive, stalled by a red light. Damnit, if she'd been allowed _time _to _prepare _for this shit, she could've set up her system to _hack _the fucking traffic lights, but..._engh. _For such a short drive, the time spent setting up would've likely not been worth it.

[ "Liv? Hello? Uh...-?" ]

Ah, right.

"Hey." Sombra realized her-..._Olivia _realized her hands were clenching her steering wheel too tightly, and her shoulders were tense. She tried to relax, her fingers drumming against the wheel impatiently as she waited for the light to change.

[ "What's going _on? _I've gotten a whiff of...something bad?" ]

"Ah, it's-..." Liv's phone bleeped out a sound indicated she'd received a voicemail from Gabe. Shaking off the distraction, Liv replied, "Aperture's biting off more than they can chew, ran into some kind of accident."

[ "Well, _that_...doesn't sound good." ]

"Maybe. Don't know the details, but let me tell you, Satya's _not _someone you want to end up on the wrong side of. And if I don't fix this shit, my ass might be toast."

[ "_Heh. _I've heard the stories about her. I'll keep the butter ready, just in case." ]

"..._What?_"

[ "_Pff. _For when your ass is toast?" ]

Olivia's eyes rolled.

[ "Just-...Nevermind, hun. What do you need?" ]

Olivia cited, "We _checked _that code before we sent it over, didn't we?"

[ "Um...Yes? _I _checked it, you had Fut-...erh-...One of _your _people checked it, one of _my _people checked it. It looked fine. Why, what happened?" ]

"I don't fucking _know _yet. For all of the damned _yelling _I've gotten thrown in my ear, I don't know what the problem is..."

[ "Well. I _don't _think it's some inherent issue with the software we put together. You're talking-...I mean, the program looked fine. We had at least _four _sets of eyes on it, not counting the source coder, so...-" ]

"So I'm getting turned into a fucking scape goat."

[ "Sounds like," ] Alma sighed. [ "Look, if something went _wrong, _with the kind of..._'science' _these nutcases are up to? It's still in our best interests to help them clean up the mess..." ]

"Agreed," Olivia groaned through clamped jaws. "Can you call Winston for me?"

[ "_Ha. _I'm sure they already have him on call – he got transferred to the new facility last week." ]

"_Mmph._"

[ "He'd find it suspicious if _I _called him right now, anyway. I'm not even supposed to _know _about this shit." ]

"Yea, yea..."

[ "Are you on your way there right now?" ]

"Couple minutes out."

[ "Well. I mean, I don't know what to tell you, Liv, sorry. Not much I can do from my end, other than keep my head low." ]

"Yea, I know. Thanks, anyway."

[ "Good luck." ]

[ "– – –" ]

"Was that the FutureGadget engineer?" asked Alma' co-worker.

She nodded grimly in reply, her fingers blazing away at her keyboard. She didn't appreciate him hearing in on her calls, but she trusted him well enough to not go poking into places he shouldn't.

"Whatever's going on at Aperture today," he mused, "it's got Sandalwood's attention."

This gave Alma a bit of pause. Her hands continued to work as she slightly craned her neck around her screen.

She sidestepped his observation, wondering, "What did you need, anyway, Delaney?"

Angus Delaney, her stoic but helpful co-worker, had stumbled his way into her office in the middle of her little phone call with Olivia.

"Oh, I...-" Angus paused, picking up on Alma' impatience. Hands fiddling together at his round waist, Angus explained, "-...was told to check with you about the follow-up report on your, um...-"

His words slowed to a crawl, enveloped by the sound of Alma's furious typing.

This entire time, Alma's fingers had been clacking away at an e-mail reply. She'd been wearing out keyboards fairly quickly as of late, but the minimal cost to replace them was easily made up for by the increase in productivity.

It had taken some time to adjust to her cybernetic enhancements, but as she'd progressed through the 'learning curve,' these robotic hands had very much proven to be worth the investment. Despite this, doing more tactile tasks like...drinking coffee from a paper cup, for example, or even using a cell phone, it could still be slightly more challenging than she would prefer. Designed under Miss Vaswani's supervision, Alma's artificial hands were technically 'prototypes,' built by CyberLife, who had quickly become the predominant force in evolving cybernetic limbs and the like. Alma theorized such work was tied into their android and artificial intelligence research. It was probably still a little ways off before people were buying bots to clean their homes, but if her human brain could brandish these artificial limbs this well, she relished the idea of computers operating with the same tools. Liv seemed to have her own intentions with the tech, and was being very dodgy about it, but Alma knew whatever it was had to be more tied to emotions than anything, ironically. A hunch, perhaps, but Alma's hunches when it came to people she knew well always turned out to be spot-on, in her experience.

"A report on my '_um_?'" Alma testily prodded when Delaney had trailed off.

"Hands," Delaney spat, bluntly. Clearing his throat, he clarified, "I guess they'd been...waiting on some kind of follow-up from you about their status? The prototypes, I mean. They said they haven't heard back from you, so they...-"

"-...bothered _you _about it, because a person is better at getting my attention than another unheard voicemail or unread e-mail." Alma sighed, her brain recollecting a few glances over the week regarding the topic. She was still technically a test subject, after all. While she'd argue her work in and of itself, and her increased productivity thereof, was repayment for the cost of installing the cybernetic hands, she was bound to an agreement wherein she helped provide data on their use. She'd been getting so caught up in recent days that she'd been neglecting this. CyberLife was a fickle company that seemed quite keen on how its tech was being used, even as a consumer product.

"You might want to get in touch with them," Delaney pointed out plainly. Alma nodded primly, dismissing him with this gesture alone as she refocused her sights back on her screen.

Delaney took note and exited Alma's office. Alma liked Angus well enough. He seemed to have an understanding of how she functioned while at the work place and was reliable and consistent in his workflow.

As Alma managed to pry herself away from her current coding endeavor – tidying up some of Zaibatsu's security checks in-house at their main headquarters – she noticed she had a new text message.

( From: Jill )-  
( Finally got around to finishing that job app you rec'd. )-  
( Any followup I should do? )-

With a soft chuckle at Jill's tardiness, Alma responded,

-( Sorry, dear, you're a bit late. ;P )  
-( Position's filled already. )

( Dammit. )-

-( Well, the good news is, now you're in our system. )  
-( Next time there's an opening, applying will be very streamlined. )

( I guess there's that. )-  
( Anyway. It's been a while since we've hung out. )-  
( Socially I mean. )-  
( Got some stuff to dish. )-  
( Sorta bff only material, you know? )-

-( Ohhhh myyy. ;D )  
-( This isn't about a certain Missus ZANE, is it? )

( Fucking a )-  
( HOW? )-

-( Dear, plz. )  
-( You are a simple woman. )  
-( With simple needs. )  
-( I mean this in the most positive sense. )

( Why does it feel like you're saying I'm stupid then? )-

-( Are animals stupid for following their instincts? )

( Is this a trick question? )-

-( The fact you think I'm trying to trick you wounds me. )

( Oh sure, I bet you're on the verge of tears. )-

Alma was smirking at her phone, rolling her eyes, in fact. Jill fired off more texts.

( Anyway YESSSS it's about HER OK? )-  
( Recent developments and I need an objective take. )-

-( You should ask her out already. )

( WTF I didn't even tell you yet. )-

-( Sorry, Jill, I'm not sure I'm going to be objective, here. )  
-( Not when the topic is 'gee wizz should I get laid already?' )  
-( Because 'yes, yes you should.' )

( Stop. )-  
( Ugh. )-  
( It's not like that. )-  
( I mean I don't know maybe it COULD be like that. )-  
( I mean I don't think I'd say no )-  
( Well but if it was too sudden maybe I would )-  
( like obviously YES that's a thing I want in the abstract theoretical future but )-  
( Ok look nevermind THE POINT IS )-  
( I need to talk through all of this before my head explodes. )-

-( Always an ear and a shoulder and all of that. )  
-( That's not a courtesy I extend to many, you know. )

( Oh I know. )-

-( Give me a time and a place, )  
-( so long as it's after 6pm on a weekday or before 8pm on a weekend. )

( lol all right. )-

Smiling at her phone's screen as her eyes lulled around with bemusement, Jill contemplated what kinds of shenanigans Alma was getting herself up to lately.

But her phone's screen flickered, glitching out on her in an all-too-familiar fashion.

Her persistent 'companion' showed up on her screen, dressed in her usual royal purple school uniform. It was altogether unsettling, given the woman insisted she wasn't actually a student. Jill could theorize as to why _Anna_ Graem, this self proclaimed 'ghost', dressed this way – er, chose to present herself this way? Did ghosts...dress themselves?

[ _**-nope. I just kind of...look the way I want.- **_]

Anna was speaking through Jill's phone speakers, but Jill knew that, for whatever reason, only she could hear it.

[ _**-why DO you think I look like this? Hm? Jo?-**_ ]

Jill frowned down at her phone, afraid to touch its screen, lest she accidentally mess with something she couldn't _see, _because this damn ghost of a girl was clouding her vision. She refused to answer to 'Jo,' a stupid, baseless nickname Anna would use to taunt her. No one called her that, save for this silly apparition. Where had she even gotten that name from, anyway?

One particular detail about Anna's appearance that continued to pique Jill's curiosity on the rare occasions that Ms. Graem revealed herself was that the girl's right arm was missing, an empty short sleeve hanging where it should've been.

[ _**-you **_would_** still stare at that, wouldn't you?- **_]

"If you can make yourself look dressed...like _that, _can't you, I don't know, make yourself look like you have both arms?"

[ _**-it's more complicated than all that, I guess.-**_ ]

"I _guess_," Jill parroted with a tired inflection. "Anyway, why are you bugging me right now?"

[ _**-not sure. Something feels off.- **_]

"Huh?" Jill gave Anna her best 'confused face.'

[ _**-you ever feel like someone's watching you? but you can't see them?- **_]

"You mean besides _y_-"  
[ _**-Besides me.-**_ ]

"Wh-...Sure, I guess. Why?"

[ _**-dunno Jo. just...be careful today, I guess.-**_ ]

"Uh...OK?" Jill did suddenly feel an uneasy sensation in her chest, which shifted into her stomach, which then gurgled. She'd skimped on lunch, her life running on a shoe-string budget at the moment.

[ _**-anyway. that was it. as you w- **_]

Anna disappeared. Kind of...mid-sentence?

"Um...-?" Jill stared at her phone for a moment, which had gone completely black, switched off. Her eyes wandered as she contemplated what that had been about. Anna had seemed...almost scared? Definitely different than usual. Jill clicked at her phone, checking the time – she was a couple minutes late coming back from break.

Her cigarette was unfinished, so she put out its ember on the brick wall behind her and tucked the remainder back in her carton, and back into her coat. Wasn't about to let half a cigarette go to waste.

Re-entering Valhalla, which was still on its very slow opening hours, Jill hung her coat up and passed by Dana's office. She was a bit surprised to see Dana slumped over her desk, face in her hands. A jolt of fear shook Jill's body as she immediately worried the worst, whisking herself in so hastily that she bumped her hand against the doorway.

"Boss...?" she said cautiously, approaching the desk.

Dana moaned quietly, her head rotating over her folded arms. Paralyzed, Jill observed Dana's eyelids fluttering a little, a snorting snore drizzling out as her back slowly expanded and contracted.

Oh. She was just sleeping. Right. Doy.

Aaaand it was adorable as hell. And Jill wanted to just stare. And pet Dana's head. And-

_Fuck. Work.  
Professional, get it together.  
Look, don't touch?_

A bit amused at how Dana had fallen asleep on her closed laptop, Jill considered removing the device to keep it safe. But when her fingers approached, she could feel the warmth radiating from its fan. Dana had a serenely silly expression – lip slightly ajar, brows arced up, a bit of drool spilling onto her sleeve.

Jill could see the bags hanging under Dana's eyes, some acne forming on her skin, and the unkempt state of her platinum-blonde hair. Jill wasn't sure what had put Dana in such a state of disarray, but she figured it undoubtedly had to do with the bar's impending closure.

After lingering at the domestically beautiful sight of Dana Zane flopped across her desk – the ever cool-and-collected woman tired, asleep, vulnerable, _human_ – Jill went back to the coat rack, grabbed her jacket, and re-entered Dana's office. After hesitating for a moment, she draped the coat across Dana's back, admiring the little squirm and hum that came from Dana.

_'Well,' _Jill though to herself, _'maybe a __**little **__touch wouldn' be so bad?'_

Smiling stupidly with her cheeks burning, Jill gave in to temptation and carefully, slowly ran her fingertips across Dana's platinum-bleached, greasy hair. Jill's palm was tickled by that one cowlick of hers that always seemed to stick out. It was as pleasant to touch as she'd imagined it.

Her mind quickly began rebuilding the environment around them – the context – into something more homely, with pajamas instead of formal attire, with hot coffee and donuts for Dana to wake up to, in some theoretical scenario where th-  
"Jill?"

_**FFFFFFF!**_

Jill felt her entire abdomen seize up, her face _boil _with embarrassed fright, as Gil's body followed into the office behind his voice. She managed to quickly distance herself _just _enough from Dana's sleeping form to look _less _suspicious, but Gil was awestruck by the sight all the same as he stepped in.

"Was wondering if...-" He slowed to a stop, zipping his lips at Jill's '_shush_-ing' gesture. "..._Oh,_" he whispered, his eyes quickly scanning the sight before him. He shot Jill a slightly judgy look and she abhorred the fact that he was definitely going to make fun of this moment for who knew how long. Well. Not that they had much longer _left, _really...

"I've never seen her like this," Jill said quietly, trying to un-blush her cheeks ASAP.

"Yea, she's running herself ragged today," Gil observed warily.

Jill quietly walked past him, trying to be quick but also not _so _quick that her high-heels made a racket. They exited the office, with Gil thoughtfully closing the door behind him, slowing at the end to not make much noise.

Jill's brain was fizzling with shame at being caught ogling her Boss – there were no two ways about it, Gil _knew _it had happened, even if he didn't have proof of it.

"That's, uh...-" Gil was following Jill to the bar floor, clearing his head with a soft chuckle. "Wow. You arrrre adorable."

"_Shut up_," Jill hissed in a whimper, palms running down her face.

Gil snickered and gave her a clap on the back as they reached the bar counter.

"Anyway," Gil rolled along, thankfully. "Was wondering if you wouldn't mind making a coffee run for me? Can get yourself something, on me – Dana, too. I'm sure she could use the boost today."

"Oh..." Jill was a bit surprised. Normally Gil would assert himself to run an errand like that. Jill noticed the pair of customers at the bar, though, and recognized them as ones Gil had some rapport with. Probably didn't want to ditch them, especially since no one else was in the bar. Where had _Jill's _customer gone? "I, erh-...?" She pointed at the spot where Sei had been, one of her most familiar clients. A bit of her drink was still in the glass.

"Ah, right. Your buddy Sei? Somethin' came up," Gil advised. "Said she had to leave in a rush, some kind of work emergency."

"Oh." Jill was a little concerned. Sei worked security for Zaibatsu, so when something was an 'emergency' in that line of work, it...worried Jill a bit. She'd been seeing Sei less and less that season, as well, come to think...

"So," said Gil, reminding her of his request. "Coffee run?"

"_Oh. _Sure. Yea." Jill actually wouldn't mind the excuse to go out, and she _definitely _wouldn't mind some free coffee.

"Cool." Gil pulled out a bill from his pocket and handed it to her. She...had no fucking _pockets in this uniform, _so she clenched the folded bill between her fingers with a nod as she took in Gil's request. "Uh, I assume you're swinging by the Starfox on the corner, so get me large Lylat brew and, erh...-" He shrugged nonchalantly. "I mean, _you _would know what the Chief likes more n' me, so...-"

Jill smiled wryly, lowering her eyelids at the suggestive glint in Gil's eyes.

"I'll be back in a few," Jill said shaking her head a bit as she made her way to the back hall. She paused, grumbled, "_Shit_, my coat..." and tossed her head back, hands on her hips.

"Just borrow the Boss'," Gil called back to her. "Fair's fair, right?"

Gil grinned at the middle finger he got, but Jill actually took his advice.

Refocusing his attention back on his customers as he waited for Jill to leave, Gil noticed how the pair of them were huddled over a cell phone set flat on the counter, playing some kind of music through its tinny speaker.

"_Daggg, _dude. We gotta follow _this _act? _Pshuh._.." The woman with the red-dyed ponytail shook her head slowly, chin in her wrist. Her single eye was glued to the small screen before her, the other covered by an eyepatch. Woman's name was Undyne, and she must've had a collection of eyepatches - swapped them out like hats. She had a different one on every time Gil saw her. Today's brand had a shield icon on it. Gil recognized it as the logo for the band the woman led. In her fur-trimmed leather jacket and bleached jeans, she was drumming her sharp black fingernails on the counter inbetween sips from her nearly depleted pint of beer.

"We must do as _they _do," declared her startlingly tall companion, Papyrus, pounding his index finger into the countertop. He then clenched that hand into a fist and trembled it abreast, citing, "We must exude luxurious _confidence_, pouring our very _souls _into every note struck, every syllable sung, every beat snared."

"...Whoa, Paps," Undyne said after an aghast silence. She belted out a laugh, slapping her own stomach. "Fuckin' _poetry, _my dude."

"POETRY? Nay, Captain, 'tis our **battle plan!**"

"Whatever you say, man," Undyne sighed through her laughter, rubbing at her good eye.

"What are you guys talking about?" Gil asked, washing a glass while watching Jill struggle into Dana's jacket with a side-glance.

"My wife's reppin' her department at some corporate charity ball thing," Undyne pointed out, rotating her phone so Gil could see. Partway into a performance, a couple of popstar-looking girls were...singing in a language he didn't understand. After a moment of admiring their singing (?) and bopping her head to the unorthodox music, Undyne explained that her wife was "live-streaming from the floor, there's celebs performing, n' stuff."

"This is a performance from the regally dangerous combination known as 'OFF THE HOOK,'" Papyrus dramatically informed Gil, wagging his hand around as his brows fluctuated in weird ways. Leaning in a bit, he explained, "They. Are our eternal rivals."

"_Are_ they, now?" Gil placated, casually waving Jill off as she headed out the front door, looking pleased as punch to be wearing the Chief's puffy winter jacket vest.

Undyne shrugged uncertainly while Papyrus nodded rowdily.

Sliding her phone back around and turning the volume down, Undyne sighed longingly, swigging at her beer. Wiping the froth off her lips with her sleeve, she said, "We're playing in this big concert competish later this month, they're gonna be there. My wife is a _super fan, _so...-" Her face smeared over with a concession of vague approval as she shrugged up one shoulder. "-...even though their style's not really my thing, it's grown on me a bit, ya know? Or maybe I've just had to put up with hearing it so much that I got used to it?" Trailing off with a surprisingly thoughtful look Gil had never seen her wear, Undyne lowered the volume on her phone, suppressing the crowd's cheering as the song ended. Gil was relieved to hear the bar's usual vibe be allowed to breathe again.

"So, uh," Gil fished for conversation as Undyne continued to watch her wife's livestream. "Is this band a big deal?"

"The fusion of their contrasting personas expressed through song...-" Papyrus ran a hand across his face, striking a theatrically morose pose. "It is like a beak, shining through the darkness."

"A, uh-..." Gil frowned, a bit thrown off. "A 'beacon,' you mean?"

"A _beak, _good sir. A _beak. _Like a mighty phoenix's beak."

Gil blinked, glanced at Undyne, who was smiling warmly, and rinsed off his beer glass with a simple nod.

"I see," he said, leaving the matter at that.

"Soooo..." Undyne glanced out toward the front door, which Jill had exited a long enough ago. She smoothly re-positioned herself on her stool, slouching over her drink. Grinning toothily at Gil, she asked quietly, "What's the good word, pal?"

Keeping his voice low and calm, Gil dispensed, "Way I'm hearing it, the cops're catching wise to what your crew's gotten mixed up in."

"_See, Paps?_" Undyne growled in a whisper, elbowing him sharply. "Fuckin' _told you, _we're running outta road, here."

Papyrus shook his head, sipping at his liquored soda. Defiantly, and seemingly disappointed at her doubt, Papyrus insisted, "Then Sans will _make more road_. He always does."

"He finds _shortcuts, _Paps," Undyne sighed, rubbing at her forehead as she gulped down more beer.

"From what my birdies tell me," Gil went on, trying to get them off their bickering, "someone's got their sights set on Mayor Asgore."

"...Uh. What. Why. What." Undyne spoke with sharp, flat syllables that Gil couldn't decipher tone from. 'Not happy,' at least, was one sentiment he was picking up.

Gil nodded, reaffirming his words with the gesture.

"'Sights set on?'" Papyrus repeated, seeking clarification. He'd finished his drink and slid the empty glass forth.

Gil shrugged.

"Another?" he checked, to which Papyrus nodded.

"'M gonna need more, too," said Undyne, also shoving her pint glass over. "Tell us. The hell you mean?"

"You seem _really _defensive about that guy, you know that?" Gil noted, having picked up the sentiment once or twice before. Seemed whenever that Mayor got brought up, Undyne's otherwise anti-politician stance got flipped upside down. Gil tossed together ingredients for Paps' refill (two parts Karmotrine liquor, five parts KeroKero Cola) and let Undyne say her piece.

"He's a _good dude_," Undyne insisted. "Got dealt a shit hand, ended up fuckin'..._Mayor, _man. He never _asked _for this crap, it was thrown on his shoulders."

"Uh...He kinda _did _ask for it," Gil disagreed, shaking his tumbler with ease.

"Mmmyes. He _did _elect to run...for the position," Papyrus brought up timidly.

"You _know _what I _mean_," Undyne snapped at her friend through a hoarse groan. Clawing her nails across her taut scalp, she said, "The old man n' I, we go _back, _OK? I'm biased as fuck. Not gonna pretend I'm not. Old bastard's like...an uncle to me, or somethin'. But I'm biased because I _know him._ And he's _not _a bad dude."

"His ex-wife would convince you otherwise," Papyrus lamented.

Gil chuckled at that, pouring the finished beverage into its glass.

"You would _know,_" Undyne grumbled, "since she's sleepin' with _your _brother."

_Eugh. _Gil did not need to hear about all _that _again...

Papyrus' expression flashed with some distaste. As Gil handed him his drink, he defended flatly, "...That does not reflect on me."

"If you _say _so, man," Undyne sighed the matter off. "Anyway, whoa, OK, OK, _hold the phone, _Gil. Back up, no dodgin' the subject. _Who's _got their 'sights set' on Asgore? 'N WHY?"

Filling Undyne's glass with a fresh pint, Gil explained, "Not sure yet, just know someone's trying to bring him down, and I'm _pretty _sure it's related to what you Los Muertos guys are up to."

"Maybe, maybe not," Undyne dismissed. "There's...a lotta hands in the cookie pot right now, so...-"

"I _believe _you mean 'too many cookies in the kitchen,'," came Papyrus with a prim...correction?

"Isn't the saying 'too many hands in the cookie jar?'" Gil mumbled warily, setting Undyne's drink on her coaster. "Or 'too many _cooks_ in the kitchen?'"

"_What? _Who the hell puts cookies in a _jar_?" Undyne scoffed, to which Papyrus nodded dubiously.

"It is impossible have too many _cooks_ in a kitchen," Papyrus heartily disagreed. "But enough _cookies _and no one can get any work done..."

_Yikes. Right. __**These **__guys..._

"Anyway," Gil sighed – one of those impatient sighs he used to indicate that their time was fleeting. "All I'm saying is that _my _intel says someone is aiming to take the Mayor down, and it seems connected to what _you _two are in on. Do with that what you will."

"We stay on the _fringes _of that shit, man," Undyne huffed between chugs of beer. "It's all, like, by association at this point."

"Uh-...I mean, I guess," said Gil with wide eyes. He gestured his hand at Undyne. "_Your _wife...-" He pointed at Papyrus. "-...and _your _brother are both neck deep in _whatever _is going on. So. If you want to put on blindfolds, be my guest. You wanted to know what I heard? Now you know."

The trio fell silent – maybe because of that looming cloud of foreboding, pressing against all of them at once. They were all connected, if only by association, and so were their futures, given what was going on. Whatever was coming – and by Gil's count, _something _sure was – it would be a product they all contributed to in some part. The best they could hope for was that the end result brought them that sweet freedom they were looking for. A way _out _of this city, ideally. But Gil was starting to think he might need to hedge some bets in case things went south.

"Way to kill the _mood, _dude," Undyne lamented, tapping an irate fingernail against her pint glass. "We _all _got our crap we're carrying, but no offense? Yours is the least of it."

Gil went to open his mouth to retort, but the front door swung open – somewhat forcefully.

At first, Gil couldn't tell who had entered. But as he leaned around Undyne and Papyrus to look, he realized...it was some kid.

Great. Not only was their limited privacy ruined, but..._kid. _In a _bar. _That never ended well.

"Look, hey," Gil called, "Sorry, buddy, this place is for adults. Where's your...-?"

He trailed off as the kid marched with...some kind of unsettling purpose, shoving chairs and a table out of their way like the things were made of styrofoam. Made a bit of a racket doing so, too.

This kid had dark brown hair, shoulder-length, surprisingly well-groomed for...what? Maybe ten years old? Twelve, _tops, _they looked. Maybe younger, who knew? They were wearing a padded winter coat of sky blue with a couple of magenta stripes running horizontal – oddly, the coat was unzipped despite the cold weather, revealing a pale green shirt with yellow stripes, almost mirroring the exterior jacket. She-...Er-..._He? _Huh. Gil...really couldn't tell, actually.

"H-Holy sh-"  
"_Frisk?!_"

"Wait, you _know _this kid?" Gil checked with the pair, confused.

"Dude," Undyne sighed at the child, "What're _you _doin' here?"

"Does _TORIEL _know where you are?" Papyrus snapped with a concerned suspicion.

This 'Frisk' kid paced up to the bar, staring up at them with a tired look in their brown eyes, like they were in desperate need of sleep. They ignored the questions, pulling out their phone. What...-?

"Wait, Toriel?" Gil put one and one together. "_This _is Toriel's kid? That one she adopted a while back?"

"Oh, totally," said Undyne. "Cute little squirt, nicest kid you ever knew." She leaned over in her stool, stretching an arm down to pat the kid on the head, twisting their snapback hat slightly askew. The kid's expression was unwavering at the gesture as they swiped at their phone. "What's up, buddo? Somethin' wrong?"

"Yes, you seem...-" Papyrus rubbed his hand over his chin. "-...displeased. Have you gotten _lost?!_" Paps pounded one fist into the opposing palm. "Surely, you've sought us out so that we might _aid you!_"

Frisk paused, glancing up at Papyrus. Paps' raised his brows unexpectedly.

Frisk's lips opened slightly, and their finger vaguely pointed toward him. They nodded gently.

"Did something happen to your mom?" Gil wondered, trying to suss out how this kid would've even _known _these two clowns were _here_, much less how someone so tiny would've found their way here alone.

The kid gawked up at Gil, at first with confusion, but a disgruntled look quickly fell over them and they dismissed his question.

Hm. Quiet kid. Weirdly so.

"_Agh, _Frisk," Undyne sighed, clawing her nails across her head. "Look, we can't help ya if you don't...-"

Frisk shoved their phone at Undyne suddenly. Gil tried to strain to see it – the phone's screen was terribly cracked – but all he could make out was...a photo of someone...in a red hoodie?

"What in the_..._-?" Undyne was immediately off-put. Shoving the phone away, she demanded, "Where'd you _take _that? How do you...-?" She paused, blinking, frowning, and took a gulp of beer. "The _fuck_...-?"

"Language," Papyrus scolded in a prim manner. "Now, erh, Frisk. Who is this, exactly? Why are you...showing us...-?"

But when Papyrus tried to examine the phone, Frisk shook their head, pulling the phone away and pointing a sturdy index finger at Undyne.

"What do you _want _with her, kid?" Undyne demanded, her tone having completely melted off the leathery softness it had before in exchange for a scaly roughness. "How do you even _know _her? Where's Toriel? Why are you _here? Rrgghh, _just_-...What?_"

Gil had been gleaning what he could from Undyne's micro-expressions. Whoever she'd seen in the kid's photo, she obviously had familiarity with them, and apparently didn't want anyone else present to know much more than that.

Then, Frisk tucked their phone away and their hands...began rapidly flurrying gestures about. They were signing out words. Ah. No wonder, maybe they were deaf? Or...-?

"_NNGGAHH,_" Undyne growled, slapping her hand on the table. "Frisk, you _know _I don't _speak _that stuff, what the _hell_-?"  
"A-Ah, erh...-" Papyrus was attempting to interject.

Frisk looked annoyed. With a deep breath and an audible sigh, they turned to Papyrus and began signing at him.

"Do. You. Know." Papyrus was translating. "Where. She...Is."

Papyrus paused. Frisk nodded, shoving an impatient palm at Papyrus, then glaring at Undyne, waiting for an answer.

"Who is _'she?'_" Gil asked warily. "And where is your _mom, _kid?"

Frisk's face suddenly...did something unexpected.

They _stared _at Gil with a flash of intensity, eyes wide and...red? They swiftly shoved a middle-finger up at him for good measure, though just with that single look he'd gotten the message. A bizarre shiver had rattled his skeleton. Something wasn't right with this child.

"_Whoa!_" Undyne snapped with disappointed shock. "Frisk. _Dude! _What the...fff-? Erh...-! What's gotten _into _you?"

"Oh, dear," Papyrus mumbled drearily. "P-Perhaps, Frisk, we should...maybe go...get some spaghetti together? S-Sort this...all out before...-"

But the poor guy's attempt at calming things down only got him a similar glare.  
"_Ohhh wowie um...-!_" He didn't take too well to it, flinching back in his stool as his voice quivered.

Man. What-? The kid's eyes...had _definitely _looked...brown. When they'd come in. They totally looked red now. Bright red. Maybe...uh...trick of the light? Valhalla did have all of its neon, and...-

Undyne hopped from her seat, stole a quick swig of her drink, and took two steps, glowering over the child.

"What is _up _with you, kid?" she asked darkly. "Your meds messin' with you? Or-...Or, what, have you been _skipping _them, or...-?"

"I saw them just this morning, they were..._peachy _keen," Papyrus pointed out. "This is-...I've-...Hoo."

Frisk was blowing steam through their nose. They whipped out their phone and began typing in a flurry.

Gil went to say something but caught out of the side of his eye the Boss stumbling drowsily down the hall.

"Hey, Chief," he greeted, heading over to her. Oh, _oof, _she'd sagged into the wall a bit, catching herself. He went to help her stand upright and she nudged him off, rubbing at her eyes. She was wearing Jill's coat over her back like a cowl.

"The fuck's goin' on...?" Dana grumbled groggily.

"Uh...-" Gil didn't know what to say, but before he could manage anything, Frisk held their phone out and it spoke in an automated tone.

[ "Tell me where she is. I'm going to stop her." ]

"...Stop h...-?" Undyne was baffled, her eyes tightening closed. Wiping a palm down the good-eye side of her face, she spat, "Stop her from _what?_"

Gil had led Dana to the bar counter, where she groaned, leaning herself into it. Hm. Maybe she was developing a fever, or something? She definitely wasn't looking hot.

"You OK?" Gil asked her beneath the hubbub. Her expression winced with distaste at the suggestion that she was _not _OK, and she nodded insistently, her eyes closed tight, her arms wrapped around her waist.

Frisk's phone spewed out another typed message.

[ "She wants to hurt someone. Do you know where she is? Or not." ]

"I...-" Undyne's breath stopped briefly before she grunted with confused frustration. "_Man, _Frisk, what have you gotten...-?"

Frisk puffed hot air through their nose and whirled around, going to stomp off.

Confused and alarmed despite her sleepy state, Dana growled out, "'Eyyy, kid, where's your _folks_?!"

"Yea, that's what _I've_ been wondering," Gil said to her.

Papyrus seemed to have shrunk in his stool somehow, despite his massive stature.

Undyne paused, a grumbling rising up out of her. She followed the child and stopped them partway at the door.

"Who's she trying to hurt?" Undyne asked solemnly, putting a weathered hand on the kid's head. "Maybe I can-"  
But Frisk shook their head, flicking Undyne's hand off.

They typed at their phone and played the voice again.  
[ "You can't help. She will hurt you. She can't hurt me." ]

Undyne sighed, rubbing at her face irritably. She chuckled a little, patting Frisk on the back as she stood upright.

"Fine, kid. You win. I don't know what's going on with you _this _time, but...she's at-...urh...-" Undyne hesitated.

_What in the...-?_

Undyne – big buff Undyne, known for settling bar brawls, for bouncing at her own shows when things got out of hand – was just going to let some weird, mute child wander off alone toward someone who...'could hurt her'? She was acting like this kid _intimidated _her, which made _no _sense. Surely Undyne or Papyrus were going to contact the kid's mom as soon as they left, right?

Frisk shrugged incredulously, their dull-eyed expression reading something akin to _'Well?!'_

Undyne stuck her palm out, flexing her fingers inward.

"Gimme," she said tiredly. "I'll show you where."

Frisk hesitated, fingers tight around their cracked phone, but they handed it over, and Undyne gave them another pat on the head with one hand as she typed and swiped at the screen with the other.

"U-Undyne, are you...sure we should-?" Papyrus started up some worried chatter, but Gil's attention was diverted.

Dana shivered out an uncomfortable-sounding noise. Sort of like a groan, but weak. Shuffling over to Gil's side, she mumbled slowly and quietly to him, "Gil...Whyyyy is there a chilllld in my barrrr?"

"I don't know, Boss," Gil replied warily, already telling that Dana's mood was twisting sideways.

"Where's _my coat?_" Dana sharply whispered. "Why. am. I...-" She paused, blinking sleepily at the jacket draped around her back. She leaned her cheek into the fur trim and sighed. "Jill's...?"

Gil nodded, smirking.

"Mm." Dana hummed simply, and Gil could swear her expression went soft for a moment before hardening back up into irritation. "She on break?"

"Nah, I sent her on a Starfox run," he explained. "Told her to borrow your jacket so she didn't wake you up."

"_Mm._" Nodding complacently, Dana stared across the empty bar floor before yawning. "'M gon' back to sleep. Tell me when coffee. Is here. _Coffee._ Um. Get this kid's parents-..._mmph_..."

Laughing at the sight of the Chief all out of sorts, Gil offered, "Need me to get you some water, Boss?"

Dana glared at him grumpily.

" _**Coffee. **_"

And with that, she waddled back off down the hall, clinging to Jill's coat.

"-get what she would've done to get you so mad at her," Undyne was lamenting. "She's in the same sorta boat _we _are, Frisk..."

Frisk shook their head defiantly, signing out words with sharp flicks of their wrists.

Papyrus translated: "She. Is. Lost."

"Uh...-" Undyne balked at this. "Sure, so are _we_, but...-"

More hand signs: "Different. We want...to be free. She wants...hurt? Erh...-?"

Frisk shook their head, and signed more specifically at Papyrus.

"She wants _pain._ Because. Him." Papyrus sighed, scratching his head. "Sorry, they're...going a bit quick for me. to. uh...-"

"Him? Who's 'him?'" Undyne sought clarification.

Frisk sighed loudly, shaking their head and shrugging, then signed some more.

"Can't. Explain. I know. But I do not know."

"Uh...-" Undyne glanced at Papyrus, who shrugged.

"Shouldn't we call this child's mother?" Gil pointed out. "Keep the kid here until she arrives?"

"Yes," Papyrus agreed, "An excellent idea, Gillian, _I _shall call Toriel." And he pulled out his phone to begin dialing.

"Guys, I'm not sure that's...-" But Undyne trailed off when she looked to Frisk. Who, uh...wasn't there?

_The fresh hell?_

Gil blinked his eyes rapidly, leaning around the counter, checking his sides, trying to see where the squirt had hidden themselves. They weren't there. It was like they'd just...vanished.

"Damnit," Undyne sighed. "Frisssskkkk, _ngahhhh__..._" She clawed her pointed nails across her scalp with a worn-out breath.

"Y-Yes, Toriel? Ma'am?" Papyrus was on the phone.

"Uh...-" Gil was lost, here. "What just happened? Where...-?"

"Frisk is...good at avoiding people when they want to," Undyne said, as if what had just been witnessed was commonplace. "Trust me, man, you don't wanna know more about it."

That was untrue. Gil very much wanted to know about these sorts of things...

Papyrus had gotten a hold of Toriel, it seemed.  
"O-Oh, dear, that's-...Hm. Aha. Uh-huh. That is...precisely why I'm _calling, _actually, they were just...-"

"Who were they looking for?" Gil asked Undyne. "And why?"

Undyne sucked in air through her nostrils slowly, slumping back into her stool. She gulped at her beer and huffed.

"I don't _know _why, but-...Let's just say it's a 'family matter' and put it to rest, yea?"

Gil had certainly been hoping for more information than that, but if Undyne was going to be secretive about it even with him, he was going to respect her privacy – for now, at least.

"Why'd you let them _leave_?" Gil pondered, not keen on letting some clearly upset child wander the streets of Arcadia alone.

"'Cuz," Undyne sighed with a defeated shrug. "Everyone's safer that way..." She gloomily stared down into her beer, ignoring Gil's raised brow.

"Uh..._How_?" Gil pressed, unsatisfied.

Undyne's eye rolled and she gripped her beer glass firmly, swigging a couple gulps down.

"Just _trust _me, man," she growled. Seemed really rattled from the whole encounter, now that the kid was gone.

"-...not entirely _sure, _but-...Oh, um...-" Papyrus paused, turning to the counter. "Undyne? Where did...Frisk _go, _exactly?"

"_Hrrrghhh,_" was all Undyne had to say to this.

Papyrus and Undyne exchanged wary expressions for a moment, and an odd tension built between them.

"Hey, uh," Gil piped up, "I'm gonna hit the restroom, you two good here?"

They both acknowledged him, so off he went.

Upon sneaking off to the cramped restroom near the Boss' office, Gil took out his phone and tried to call one of his contacts. When they didn't pick up, he fired off a text message.

-( To: Sombra )  
-( Hey, weren't you telling me about a weird kid the mayor's ex adopted? )  
-( I think they were just here, at the bar. )  
-( Something was very off about them. )

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**


	11. Episode 11

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)

**Episode 11  
**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_**If you have not yet experienced it, I would recommend checking out the interactive short story I created, 'Red Wheelbarrow,' which takes place a little while before this important part of the narrative. **__**You can check it out on itch io**__**, username destiny-smasher.**_

_**Enjoying the story so far? Have any feedback? Support or critique? I'd love to hear from you – this first season has taken over a year to write and there's still more episodes to come yet, but it is a very niche project, so any comments I receive are much appreciated! Thanks for reading and enjoy the rest of Season 1.**_

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Rintaro's aching fingers were occupied with untangling the rubber band ball in his grasp. Each piece removed was a risk, a delicate and careful act, lest taut rubber recoil against fragile skin in a sharp and sudden pinch of pain, its tampered form fighting back to regain its natural stance.

His wife, Kurisu, was on another one of her work-place _rants, _and, as usual, he was absorbing the brunt of her frustrations without question or complaint. Any genius worth their salt struggled with _madness _on a regular basis, in his experience. Better to let the pressure-cooked steam _boil _out from time to time, lest one succumb to their own desperate depravities.

"-trying to _slap _all of this together in such a short time?! I mean, what did she _expect _would happen? Honestly! We've been operating with this absurd, uncontrollable _thing _for _how _many months, and she just _somehow _expects to _roll _on in and just..._contain _it? And _why _is she in such a hurry to set up her _own _operation? Haste makes _waste._"

Rintaro, ever the Demise's advocate, ventured, "Perhaps she is being pressured by her superiors. It _is _a luxury we perhaps take for granted: we _are_ the proverbial masters of our own castle, after all."

Their longtime (and lucrative) friend Faris was, technically speaking, the end-all-be-all of decisions made for the lab, but she merely handled finances, letting Rintaro and Kurisu do as they pleased.

"_Exactly, _this is _our _castle!" Kurisu huffed. "_We _are the monarchs. _She _is a guest. An _honored _guest, surely, but a _guest _nonetheless."

A rubber band collided sharply with Rintaro's thumb, stinging briefly.

Delicately unclipping the band from his thumb, he posited, "And you feel she's being a less than humble guest, it seems."

"She's _being_ an unreasonable _prick!_"

"Wow," Rintaro remarked. "Harsh words for such a prestigious associate."

"I don't _care _how 'brilliant' she is," Kurisu barked. "How many _journals _she's been in, how many _prizes _she's been lauded with, or _how _the media drools over her every syllable. If you can't act _professional _and offer your peers some common _courtesy, _maybe such a collaborative _field _isn't the best _fit_ for you. I mean, look at _O'Deorain! _If anything, she is _over_qualified to be serving under us, and yet she takes it in _stride_. She cooperates, she does as her superiors ask, and she does it all efficiently and with a _smile._ And do you know _why?_"

"I cannot say," Rintaro said calmly, trying to hide his smirk. "O'Deorain refuses to acknowledge my very existence on most occasions..."

"She's a _professional_," Kurisu kept on going, perhaps steamrolling Rintaro's self-deprecation. As she spoke, she was flailing an angry finger about, her fencing sword in this passionate pirouette of a practice duel. "Moira _understands _the importance of _respect _amongst peers. But _Satya? Ohhhh, _Thomas-Light-Award-Winner _Satya Vaswani._ She thinks that because she's got a _television-_fueled reputation, CyberLife technology in her _pocket,_ finances being backed by _Volfred Sandalwood...-! Argh-! _Thatshe can _march _over all of _our _progress like she _owns _the place! Call me old-fashioned, but scientific _research _is supposed to be about the _future, _not _one _individual's _present, _and if _Satya _thinks th...-! _Urh...-!_"

The office tablet was ringing. Mayuri was calling.

Having caught himself smiling mischievously at his wife's entirely flustered mannerisms, Rintaro accepted the call, putting it on speaker.

"Mayuri?"

[ "_Tutturu~!_ Incoming call from Ms. Vaswani, and _hooo _gosh, she sounds _reallllly_ upset..." ]

Rintaro scratched at what little beard he possessed (never could seem to get it to grow as bushy as Daru's), then glanced wryly up to Kurisu. She crossed her arms, sifted her bangs, and sighed with impatient exhaustion, cooling herself off as she retrieved a bottle of water from the office mini fridge.

"Put her on," Rintaro advised, masking his bemusement as best he could.

[ "Okie-_dokie_!" ]

The screen switched off Mayuri's endearing visage, changing display to a static image of the Aperture Science logo and the caller's name: **[ Satya Vaswani ]**

[ "Hello?" ]  
A mere pair of syllables conveyed the rage of a volcano ready to erupt.

"Good evening, _Symmetra_," Rintaro greeted her by her appointed moniker. He added a Kyouma-bound flair for the arrogant to his bellowing voice. "Pray tell, what curse hast thou _wrought _upon thine-self on this so calama-?"  
[ "_Put _your wife on, you deplorable buffoon! I've no time for your juvenile _ramblings._" ]

Stuck in mid-pose, a theatric hand abreast, Rintaro smirked devilishly at Kurisu, who was shooting him a disapproving look as she guzzled her water bottle.

"As you _wish_, Madame," said the Mad Doctor 'Hououin' with a bow, rotating the tablet around on its stand to face Kurisu. "Here she is."

[ "Makise?" ]

Kurisu coughed, sputtering on her water, but cleared her throat quickly enough to choke out, "Vaswani! Ma'am."

[ "What is the _meaning _of this?" ]

Rintaro went back to his finger-finagling deed of un-twining the rubber band ball.

"I've... already dispatched the appropriate engineer to your location," Kurisu informed with a tone like a plastic _shiv._

[ "That is what your _subordinate _told me _fifteen minutes ago._" ]

"It _does _take a small amount of time for someone _off duty _to come to the facility on such short notice." Contrasting her saccharine tone, Kurisu's eyes were bugging out impatiently, and she practically gasped between finishing her sentence and drinking more water from a bottle that was crackling beneath the pressure of her tightening grip.

[ "And precisely how long is _that _going to take?" ] Symmetra demanded to know.

"It can't be long. She-...She is _on _her way, Ms. Vaswani."

[ "She had _better _be." ]

"I got off the phone with her _moments _ago. She had _just _arrived on site, so I'm sure she'll be there _any _minute."

Flowery syllables drizzled in a coating of elegance poured from Kurisu's lips, but her eyes sparked and flickered like broken neon lights.

[ "And what if she is _not?_" ] wondered Symmetra.

Bouncing the rubber band ball on the floor beside his chair, Rintaro smiled warily at his wife's teeth-clenched expression, her entire body flashing with danger and barely bridled rage.

"I _assure _you, Ma'am, she _will _be there – else I will _personally _see to the situation myself."

[ "Unless you are _already _on your way as we _speak, _that will _not _do." ]

"Given certain circumstances occurring at _our _facility presently, my...capabilities are _somewhat _restricted at the moment, _Ms. Vaswani_," (the woman's name seethed out from an off-kilter smile you would _not _want to see peering at you from a dark alleyway) "but I _do _promise you, FutureGadget Labs is committed to cooperating with Aperture Science in this..._delicate _matter."

[ "Thanks to your _shoddy _engineering and poor implementation, this matter has _swiftly _become anything _but _delicate." ]

"I..._understand _your frustration, but-...Ma'am?" Kurisu was glaring at the tablet. Her hand fully squeezed against the water bottle, squirting a small spout that was a volcano in spirit. "She _hung up on me!_"  
_  
__**-tap!-**_

"The complete _lack _of professionalism from that woman," uttered Ms Vaswani primly, having hung up the call on her tablet before wasting any more time. "I am utterly _aghast _as to how a woman as _flippantly _unprepared could have _possibly _gotten _any _semblance of meaningful results from having..._this _dropped into her lap."

His boss gestured her left arm upward and outward, toward the intimidating testing chamber beyond the glass. Ms. Vaswani could be a _real _pain, but Elro put up with it, to the best of his abilities. A chemist in theory, turned damned _lackey _in practice, all of Elro's experience and training had indeed landed him a job in the field of science, but the Trinity had apparently divined a _less _than ideal career path for him. After succeeding in his work with Aperture's genetics division, he'd been upgraded – so he'd been led to believe – to working directly under the honored and lauded Symmetra, a master in her field.

Mostly, this involved applying his chemistry and biology knowledge toward the ends of utilizing CyberLife technology in conjunction with human subjects. Getting android-built limbs to be compatible with Goddess-built limbs, so to speak.

More recently, though?  
He honestly could not _explain _what he had been roped into.  
What he _did _know was that some of what they were exploring was sort of flying in the face of all of his prior scientific experience. The obscene forces lurking beneath the surface of Arcadia were unpredictable and ominous.

Ms. Vaswani set her tablet down on the table Elro was working at and asked him grimly, "Have you received _any _signal from Agent Black yet?"

_She could be...__**anywhere.**_

Agent Black was troublingly M.I.A. since the malfunction.

"Negative," Elro replied, already looking ahead in preparation for the impending follow-up question.

"And Agent White?"

But Agent White was sending back healthy readings from the target location, as if everything had gone off without a hitch. The receiving team was already at work processing the data from the leap with the aid of their advanced AI unit.

"Actually," Elro responded, a bit surprised, "Y-Yea, White...appears to have completed the cycle without incident. GlaDOS made a single notation: 'Huge success.'"

"At least there is _that_," Vaswani sighed through locked jaws. "But _where _is Black?"

"I-...I'm not...-" Elro was losing his cool, his mind racing at the implications of what _might _have just happened...Even more worrying was that his little _sister _was _out there, _in the room where this..._thing _could happen at a moment's notice if they didn't get the situation under control. Glancing through the thick glass pane, Elro's heart froze slightly when he realized he couldn't _see _his sister's presence amidst the machinery.

Surely, she hadn't..._disappeared, _there'd been no readings of anything sudden since they'd sent Agent Black through.

"I _assure you, _Doctor," Vaswani seethed, "that Agent Black is _not _out there, in that room. Now _tell me _where she _did _end up."

"I'm-...Uh, I...-" Elro was at a fucking _loss_. He was scanning the data flickering and flashing at him, but it was almost melting together into a stream of nonsense. "Looking into it, Ma'am. I'll...keep you posted."

Vaswani sniffed in the biggest breath of air, boiling it in her lungs as she glared at the displays beside Elro.

"It _appears _she arrived _somewhere,_" she breathed out. "Can you not tell me _where_?"

"I can't," Elro replied honestly. "This-...I'm not-..."  
"Helpful," Vaswani bitterly finished his statement. "You are not _helpful._"

"I'm a _chemist, _not...-"  
"We are _all _operating outside the bounds of our _nurtured _roles, Doctor. I don't want _excuses, _I _understand _the complexity of the situation. I want _your undivided attention._"

"...Yea. Got it. Understood."

Elro was at least a little relieved when Vaswani began glancing around the room, seeking out the other scientists present, who were both practically cowering over their controls.

"_Where_ is Dr. Harold?" Vaswani barked. "Hm? _He _was supposed to be overseeing this exercise, _why _is he still not here?"

"I...ammm not _sure,_" muttered one of the others. "He sent his apprentice in his stead, and...-"  
"And _no one _thought this might cause a _problem?_" Vaswani hissed.

Elro was _not _going to let his hard-working sister get thrown under the bus.  
He pointed out, "She's overseen this _same _exercise at _least _twice yesterday."

"_Not _with these subjects," Vaswani primly pointed out.

"Erh...-" _Shit, _Elro did...not have a good counterpoint to that. But that _shouldn't _have mattered, right?

Then again, how could one scientifically _reason _with..._this _crazy shit?  
_Just _the 'portal' aspects alone were too much to wrap his head around, nevermind the _rest _of it.

Leaning up against the glass and glaring out at the machinery before them, Vaswani irately drummed her left hand's fingernails against the window. "It is this _exact _type of carelessness, bias, and _baseless confidence_ that causes the very foundations of scientific research to crumble."

Well. _That _was...maybe a bit _dramatic, _wasn't it?

Vaswani's mind dove onto another target.  
"And _where _is that insufferable _FutureGadget _woman?"

"She's in," Elro replied, having been notified that one Olivia Calomar – the engineer who'd helped set up the software for this whole op – had been granted clearance mere minutes ago.

"_Good. _But someone still needs to _escort _Dr. Harold_ here_." She towered over Elro's back. "_Immediately_."

"B-But I have to...stay, and make sure th-"  
"Precisely," Vaswani snapped over Elro. "Send your _sister, _I don't _care._"

"Wh-? _Robin?_ She's...-"

"She's not doing us any good on her _own. _A student without her teacher. Clearly, she is out of her depth."

This was a blessing in disguise. Did Elro _appreciate _his boss completely dismissing his sister like she was useless garbage? Nope. Did he appreciate the notion that his sister could be tidily _removed _from this entire dumpster fire and stay _safe, _somewhere _else_? Yea. That sounded very nice, actually.

"Sh-Sure, maybe we should...dismiss her from the whole-"  
"_Miss Tournesol_," Vaswani bellowed into the comm system – something Elro was normally doing himself.

Elro could see his younger sister's face perk up with alarm from the chamber within. She rose from her working position so quickly, she banged her head on a piece of the equipment she was tinkering with, spilling screws across the floor, but managed to quickly recover, wiping dust from her golden bangs.

Vaswani ordered to her, "_Stop _what you are doing. Go find Dr. Harold. _Obviously _this is a task _beyond _your inexperienced capabilities..."

Elro was trying to make sure the readings remained stable, but he caught a glimpse of Robin's doll-like face pout with stubborn offense. It never failed to be adorable, but he wished his younger sibling wouldn't tempt fate so much with her lack of tact.

_Robin, just get the Doc and let __**him **__sort this out...Don't you understand how dangerous this is?_

With an adroit flourish, Robin twirled her trusty wrench, slung it onto her belt, and thrust herself into an exaggerated salute before marching for the exit.

Popping out into the hall – and _still _amazed at how _quickly _this entire branch had been constructed – Robin adeptly broke into a jog, heading for her mentor's office.

She ripped her cellphone off of its velcro holster on her hip.

Oh, hey, she had a text from her best friend.

[ From: Mina ]  
[ NO WAY. You paid last time let ME cover YOUR ass for a change! ]  
[ You're gonna haveto let me know if this new deodorant actually WORKS tho ]  
[ unless you wanna pay the waiters hospital bill too! ffffff ]

Robin smirked to herself, recalling their prior dinner date. _Well, _not...like, _date_-date, because...Mina was already taken, and...-

_Arghhh _work-work-work she was on the clock, she was _literally _racing _against _a clock, here, couldn't get distracted! Jogging down the dimly lit corridor, she accessed her contacts list and tapped at her mentor's name.

[ Calling...**Winston **]

Hm. No answer. Dangit.

Not to worry, though! Robin was resourceful, she'd find him in a jiff, and they'd fix the transmat together. It wasn't...that the problem was _beyond _her skills, it was...just that she didn't have the _time _to figure it all on her own! 'Symmetra' was being impatient and just didn't have faith in her. But Winston did, _he _understood, _he _respected her. And anyway, two heads were better than one, right? Robin just needed...some direction, some instruction, to get her going on the right path. That was all.

Briskly sprinting through the cavern-like halls of the recently furnished Aperture branch of the facility, Robin narrowly dodged a lab worker pushing a cart of glass tubing and beakers, clapped her hand across a corner of the tiled wall to swerve gracefully around an intersecting hall, sidestepped a janitor mopping the floor (_sliding _along on her boots over the soap-slicked section, using both arms to keep her balance with a shout of "Sorry!"), regained her footing mid-sprint, and _kept on going._

That was what Robin Tournesol was best at, after all – always pushing forward, against any obstacle, despite any resistance or setback. Like the sun itself, you couldn't stop her from rising up.

Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but she _would _prove to Ms. Vaswani that she could handle any task thrown at her. She just needed more experience. She was barely twenty, and had only been working for Aperture for a year and change. Their dad had passed a few years back, and OK, yes, that _had _taken Robin some time to come to terms with, but she was better now, and being a part of this program had played a big part in that. Still, you couldn't just _suddenly _expect her to _magically _know how to operate all of this complicated, unorthodox tech. Despite the circumstances, she was learning fast! At least, that's what Winston kept saying, and she was honestly _much _more keen on his opinions than 'Symmetra's,' anyway.

"-...needs to be re-installed...I _know, _but-..."  
Oh. Up ahead was some lady in a lab coat with a chunk of her hair shaved off. She looked like a grumpy, half-asleep mess, to be honest, and was trudging along in almost as big a rush as Robin was, grumbling into her phone...  
"-...the hell do they _expect_when they ask us to deliver something _that _complicated in such a short...-!"

_Hmmm, don't I know her from somewhere?  
__**Oh, yea, **__she's that snarky lady from FutureGadget we've been waiting on!_

Robin helpfully bellowed out in a hurry, "Miss? Vaswani needs you ASAP! Take the next left turn, then two-...no, _three _doors on your right!"Before she could even watch her instructions register on the woman's face, Robin had _whizzed _by, swiftly slidingaround the woman, and continued making her bee-line for Winston's office. Carrying the usual pep to her step, Robin's boots gently pounded against the tile floor, echoing through the empty hall in a quick and steady rhythm.

_-pomp-pomp-pomp-pomp-_

A pair of guards came into view, and Robin offered them an energetic wave with a grin as she wove around them, not losing a shred of momentum.

_Skidding _

to a stop in front of Winston's door, Robin's heart was pounding steadily, her head a little clammy with sweat. No time to rest, though, had to keep moving, keep moving, keep-

She hit the buzzer on the door below his name - { _**Dr. Winston Harold**_ }

[ "Mmyhello?" ] His voice came through the little speaker by the door.

Robin stared up at the camera perched on the wall and gave a waggle of her hand, her legs bouncing with some impatience.

[ "_Ah!_" ] Recognizing her, Winston granted her entry, unlocking the door.

Robin burst in, immediately spouting out, "You need to come with me down to the Ivory Room, we've got a _bit _of a...-!"  
But before she'd finished her own sentence, she'd found herself stumbling onto Winston huddled at his desk, with...some _lady _sitting in a chair at his work table? Gelled spiky hair, pointed nose, _long _legs...

Didn't Robin _know _her from somewhere? A friend of Winston's, or...-?

She had _just _whipped a jacket on, and was staring at Robin with befuddled alarm.

"O_-Oh,_ um...-!" Robin felt her face heat up with awkward embarrassment. This wasn't-...? No, Winston didn't _have _anyone like that in his life. Right? And _besides, _he definitely wouldn't be bringing them to the _workplace. _Erh, unless-...

_IVORY ROOM.  
AGENT BLACK.  
TERRIBLE TERRIBLE MALFUNCTION._

"This your _pupil, _eh?" ventured the woman, bobbing her head in Robin's direction. Winston was still fussing with some device off to the side. Robin felt weird as the woman scooped up a pair of round eyeglasses, placed them on, and scrutinized Robin, glancing up and down, sweeping over her with a cautious skepticism. "_Not_ what I was expecting..." She had a foreign accent...Seemed to be a patient, maybe?

_OH RIGHT, _this was that..._one _lady. The lady with the, uh, _chronic _condition (fff) that Winston had cured. Axten? Linda? Linda Axten...? _Mmmmm _that didn't sound right...

"Mm?" Winston at least turned around, carefully holding...a pendant? It looked _quite _interesting, definitely Winston-made tech. "Ah, Robin – yes, she's my...protege, of sorts."

Robin smiled dumbly, waved slightly _more _dumbly, and nodded adequately.  
She went to speak up, sheepishly, about the, erh, _problem _going on, and-...

"I mean, she's a bit...-" The woman paused, lifting a brow at Winston.

"What?" Winston was clueless. Of course.

"_Nothing_," the lady dismissed quickly, straightening her neck as Winston _delicately _placed the pendant around her neck.

"_Erhm, _Dah-...Dr. Harold?" Robin eked out, using his proper title for the sake of their company.

"What is it?" Winston asked casually, _apparently _out of the loop. He backed away from the woman as she tucked her fancy gadget necklace beneath her shirt. "_Mm, _you look a bit...troubled," Winston observed, perhaps the most keen thing he'd noticed this entire exchange.

"You are..._needed_," Robin blurted. "Immediately. At the Ivory Room?"

Winston and Robin exchanged a tense pause of eye-reading.

Robin hoped her eyes communicated,  
_'RIGHT NOW IT'S BAD OH GOSH IS IT BAD'  
_while Winston's seemed to reply,  
_'Oh, dear.'_

"I...have to go, Lena," Winston said, clearing his throat. "Something...urgent seems to have come up."

"Ain't that just the way, though?" Lena sighed, zipping up her brown jacket. "Well. Appreciate you checkin' up on the ol' accelerator." She rapped her knuckle against her chest. "How we looking, Doc?"

Winston caught wind of Robin's fretful concern and waved his arm for his...friend? They were friends, right? Yea, Robin could _swear _he had a photo of them together somewhere in this messy office...

Winston and Robin were already heading for the door, but Robin was _leery. _This lady couldn't just...be _left _in here, unsupervised.

"Should be good to go for a good while now," Winston assured, gesturing her to follow them. "Just...don't overdo it."

"Not planning on it," said Lena, following them out. "_Ah, _can see you're in a hurry, eh? You need me to...-?" She vaguely pointed at...her chest. Again. Hm. What _was _that thing Winston had given her? An 'accelerator?' Was _that _how he'd figured out her problem? He always got dodgy around the topic...

"_Ah, _n-no," Winston quickly dissuaded her, going as far as to stick an arm out to stop her. She passed them by, exiting the room but staring at Winston with concern. "I wouldn't...do anything with it while you're...in _here._" He adjusted his glasses direly.

She seemed to 'get' what he was referring to.

"Right," Lena grunted. "This place is a bit..._different _from your old office, eh?"  
Winston nodded briskly and sullenly at this remark.

Took Robin a sec to understand, but she got there.  
This new facility? The one Aperture had slap-dashed together so rapidly?  
The _thing _they had contained here? 'The Anomaly?'  
Definitely _not _a good idea to go...meddling around with anything weird in this place, not unless it was properly controlled, monitored, and contained.

Which, um...-

_Well?  
_That was probably _exactly _what had gone wrong in the Ivory Room...  
They could keep running tests, sure, but the very entity they were drawing power from seemed to have fits of unpredictability.

Winston buzzed at a walkie talkie clipped to his shirt.

"Mm, Sei? I've, erh, wrapped up with my patient."  
[ "Roger that, Doctor. I'll escort her to quarantine." ]

Winston nodded to Lena, who paused, glancing at Robin warily, then nodded back.

"Quarantine?" Lena mumbled doggedly, her body slumping. She sounded more annoyed than shocked.

Winston shrugged to her in a sort of _'Yep, sorry, seems that way.'_

"Rubbish," huffed Lena, shoving fists into her jacket pockets. "What the bloody hell's going _on _down here, anyway?"

Robin found her mind buzzing with concerns, worries, regrets – what if this was all _her _fault? What if she'd _overlooked _something? What if she hadn't prepped something correctly? What if she'd forgotten some important detail? What if sh-  
"Robin?"

Winston's enormous hand tapped at her shoulder with concern. Lena had been whisked off by that new blue-haired security lady, Sei. She was easy to remember because 1) her hair was blue and 2) she was incredibly soft-spoken and polite to be walking around wearing riot gear and the like.

"Hello?" Winston prodded again.

Coming to, Robin gave Winston a nod, leading him back toward the Ivory Room.

"What _is_ happening?" Winston inquired. "Did something go wrong?"

"Uhhh, _so,_" Robin began, hastily explaining as they perilously jogged along. "I was, um, going to try _waiting _for you, buuuuut Symmetra did _not _want us to wait? So we, erh, went ahead with the test – one from the Ebony Room," (back at their original facility) "and one from the Ivory Room, right? W-Well, um, _one _of the two subjects arrived safely at the destination, extracted her sample, aaaand got across to the Ebony Room, safe and sound, _but, _um...-" Robin could feel her face bulging with fretful anxiety.

"Something went wrong in the Ivory Room," Winston theorized, huffing a discontented sigh. "Did you double-check the heat signatures on the ivory ind-"  
"The ivory inductors, _yes,_" Robin barked back with some stressed-out impatience. She felt a little insulted he'd even _ask _her this after the _last _time she'd gotten that wrong.

But it was _slightly _different when they were dealing with _human lives _instead of, say, _bananas_.  
The concept of a _human being _coming out the other end of this kind of test as a gooey, greenish..._blob_, like those bananas had..._Eech. _The image was unsettling, and Robin pushed it out of her mind as they reached the Ivory Room.

The Ivory Room seemed to be in _quite _a state of emergency by the time they returned.

In the control room, Ms. Vaswani was going off at that woman Robin had passed by in the hall – her name tag was a card with a sticker slapped on, the name scribbled in marker.  
{ **GUEST:** Calomar }

Robin could see her brother gaze out at them, making a stern expression. _She _knew what it meant – he wanted her to leave the premises. _No _way, not a chance! Agent Black needed their help – maybe the whole facility did.

The state of things did not seem to phase Winston, somehow, but a new presence in the transmat room certainly _did._

A short woman with bushy, prickly hair (dark, nearly black, but tinged a shade of green) was grumbling to herself as she studied a tablet in one hand with a steaming mug of coffee in the other. The ever-present wrinkles under her dull, emerald eyes conveyed her near-constant state of deadpan irritation.

"Hiyajo?" Winston greeted, confused.

Her coal-like, frigid gaze met his, snapped to Robin's, then stabbed back at Winston.

"Oh," she said simply, her eyes sharpening like daggers. "Finally decided to _show up, _huh?"

Dr. Maho Hiyajo had apparently been a close companion and research partner to Kurisu Makise of FutureGadget fame, back during days gone by. After some kind of falling out that never went public, Maho had started working for Zaibatsu, eventually becoming one of Winston's colleagues – friends, probably? The way Winston talked about her, they sounded really close. Robin didn't know why, but now that Dr. Hiyajo was assigned to the same facility as they were, Robin had been picking up a _very _different impression of the woman than Winston had built. He'd talk about Maho with such fondness and nostalgia, but the actual woman, in the flesh, was...just kind of tired and cranky all the time.

"I was busy with an important patient," Winston explained, immediately finding his way over Hiyajo's shoulder to study what she was looking at. "Robin informed me that...one of our subjects has gone missing?"

Tapping and swiping at the tablet to give Winston a quick run-down, Hiyajo grumbled in her constantly grouchy voice, "Important _patient, _huh? Anyway. The whole _branch_ is on deck until we get this resolved...I've got GlaDOS picking apart Agent White's results to see if they can figure anything out, but...-"

"Mm..." Winston rubbed at his chin, surveying Hiyajo's data.

Robin, flustered over her own seeming lack of contribution, went about trying to clean up the area of the teleportation device that she'd been examining before being dismissed. She hadn't looked through every compartment in question, and went back to dissecting the mechanisms, cautiously peeling off the machine's skin and delicately replacing it as she went. A few minutes into this, and something indeed curious started happening. Robin noticed the components that channeled power from The Anomaly were...still operational. Even though the machine had been shut down.

Baffled, Robin swerved around the corner of the primary processing unit to observe the transmat platform. In the center of the triangular transportation module was...something?

"-...malfunction in the software might've shifted Black's location?"  
"It's possible," Winston acknowledged. "She must be..._stuck _out there. Somewhere."  
"Then we have to get her _back_," Hiyajo concluded. "We have to re-activate the machine."  
"What if another power surge occurs?"  
"I don't _know, _Winston, but the _longer _we wait, the greater the risk we expose Madelyn to."

Madelyn Binoche – that was Agent Black's real name. Robin...had a working relationship with the extremely irritable woman. Her short black hair and ever-present scowl had become a dreaded sight in Robin's days of working in proximity. Binoche seemed ever frustrated, but Winston had explained in confidence that, evidently, the poor woman suffered from chronic headaches, a possible side-effect from all of the experiments she took part in. She seemed to hold some kind of grudge against Robin's elder brother, Elro, which Robin knew had to be connected. So _that _meant that, by proxy, she seemed to hold a grudge against Robin, as well. To be fair, Robin _was _helping in coordinating these experiments. Indirectly, usually, via maintenance, but this particular foul-up had occurred on _her _watch, so...-

Anyway, personal nonsense aside, there was no way they could leave Madelyn out..._wherever _she was.

"Hey, guys?" Robin called. She was ignored.

Maho was grumbling, "We need to _do something, _you _know _what kinds of crazy crap can _happen _out there."

"I've heard _stories_, theories," Winston murmured, "It's all conjecture."

"Yea? Conjecture, huh? _Puh-!_ Well, I'd rather not risk losing someone elseto this 'conjecture,' all right?"

"Maho," Winston sighed, simultaneously giving Robin a confused look as she approached the center of the transmat platform. "Robin?! What are you doing?"

"There's something _here_!" Robin called back, pointing at the tiny object she had found.

It was about as small as a thumbprint, seemingly flat. Triangular in shape. Almost as if it was...a miniature portal? The ones the transmat created were ovular, clean, but this-...This was triangular and rough. Sort of a distorted. It actually looked a _lot _like the-

**It pulsated.**

_Oh. Er...-!  
Not good!_

"Get _away _from it!" Maho snapped. "What's _wrong _with you?!"

"I'm not _touching _it!" Robin defended, backing off as cautiously as her suddenly shaking legs could take her. "I just-...! I saw something, so I...-!"

All eyes froze on the strange phenomenon for a moment. It remained still and small. Eerily so.

"_Wh-?!_" Dr. Hiyajo had waddled her small-statured form up to the platform, her eyes wide. "This isn't-...! None of our readings are reacting to this, what the _hell_?!" She turned to the glass-protected room behind them. "_Hey! _Are you idiots picking this up?!"

They got some confused, wary looks from the observation deck.

Taking slow, fearful steps away from the transmat module, Robin sensed the hairs on her arms tingle. She felt almost a static kind of shock jump through her ponytail and spread across her skull, causing the briefest of dizzy spells.

_**-RRNNNNNK!-**_

The door to the observation room burst open, and Ms. Vaswani stomped through.

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Elro to 'Symmetra', following her inside. He was totally ignored.

"_What _are you all doing?!" Vaswani bellowed at the trio huddled around the machine. "We require an immediate response to this situation, not-"

"C'mon." Robin's attention was sideswiped by her brother grabbing her by the arm, tugging at her.

Irritably, she shoved his hand off of her. Vaswani was arguing with the two doctors, but Elro was fussing at his sister, trying to get her to leave.

"-still has to be _alive _on the Other Side, we can't just _abandon _her after all she's-"  
"I am _not _proposing that, Hiyajo," Vaswani snipped. "I am willing to contain this _myself _if it comes to it, but we need a _plan, _immediately."

"Maho," said Winston nervously, nudging the small-statured woman away from the transmat platform and to his side.

Elro paused, giving Robin a wide-eyed, impatient glare, then stated, "We're getting out of here."

"_Uh-! I'm_ staying," Robin insisted, volleying his stupid stare back at him as the rest carried on their separate argument. "Agent Black _needs _us."

"Maybe 'us' in the collective sense, but not _you_. You don't owe her anything."

"I think I _do_," Robin insisted, pulling out her wrench and un-bolting another panel on the machine. "She got lost under _my _supervision, so-"  
"Under _Symmetra's _superision, and-"  
"_One _of us has to repay her, don't you think?"

Elro's breath caught, then grunted out with disbelieving frustration.

"I don't know _what _you did to her," Robin followed up, "but you did _something – _something bad enough for her to treat us the way she does."

"Sunflower," Elro placated, using her pet-name as a desperation move. "That's on _me, _all right?"

"That's on _us_," Robin corrected, twisting the last bolt off. "I'm part of why she's out there right now. So I'm staying. I'm helping to fix this, and we're getting her back. Now stop wasting time." She pried off another panel and went about inspecting the wiring.

Her brain was whirling with aggravation at Elro. How could he be so nonchalant about this? Always trying to shove Robin out of things, too. She hated that the most.

And even _still, _after she'd _just _said what she had, he was still prodding, pulling at her, trying to get her to back off, _why _was he always  
l ik .e ? . it wa/s n.t/  
-͛̄̌̏͂ͪ͐+ͥ̈́͗͐̈͗ͭ+ͮ͂+͒ͣ͊̂̎̀+̈ͮ-̆͊̅̂̽ ͋̈́̀̂/ͣ/ͪ̐.͊͑̈͑ .̔̀̅ͫ͐ͩ . ͊/̂ͪ̆/̅̊̉ͩ͗̚̚. ͆ͦ̒̚.̊́͋̎ ̑.ͥ̉̾͊̀ͪ\̇̄̈́̓͗̚̚\\.̀̉̒.̂̋͗̽̚\ͤ̀̊ͨ̾̐̉\ͩ͛ͯ  
̏ͥ͋̂ͯ̈́͊/ͫ\̏͆̇̌ͮ/̀ͮ̏͆͗\͛̇ͮ/ͬͧ̈́ͦ̆̅\ͩ̋/ͣ̅̆̾ͣ\̅͂̓ͦͯ̄ͨ/̂\̍/̈́\ͦ͒͌/͋̽̆/ͪͧ̓̃ͥ͊ͬ/̏̅͊̓̇̄̆/ͬ/̃ͦ̃ͩ̏/̊ͣ̒ͫ͐̑/-̍-̓-̀ͬ̑͗ͤ-̓́̽͊-̅̏͑ͫ-̎̈́ͫ-͐͗.ͯ͑̍..ͪ̇͗̚.̿̇̿.̎̅̏.̾̈̽̂̉.̌͛͊̒͂̉ͭ̍̌͗ͣͦ͆̾̃͛̐̄͂̒̋̈́ͦ̍̇̑̌̓͌ͪ̌̚  
.̍ͦ̄̄̿ͩ̏/͒̈́͑̑ͮ/͊̔̈́̎̈l̓̏̆̉̉̂̚/̓͂̈̽̒͗̔i̎̋͋̆ͭͦ̊k͌e̓͒ͩ̽ͤ̅ ̊ͤs͋ͥh͐̐̽ͩͥ.͂̿̽.̋̋̇ͯ͑̿ͣͧͨͤͫ̉̐̐ͧͯe̽ͨ̽ͥ̍̓ĕͥĕͫ̈́̃e̔ͫͫͧ.̔ͬ͛̂ͬ.̈́̑ͬ.ͫ̾̽

_Ough. Eeef. Augh._

Robin's whole _body _had suddenly shuddered, like that static shock from before, only tenfold. She'd fallen to her .

Things had been very white just-...just a second ago, why were things black now?

Where...-? What?

Lines. Green lines, crisscrossing the horizon. Like a grid.  
There was a horizon. Like...outside?  
They were outside?

Mounds, dunes of gray surrounding them upon a long stretch. Mountains far off in the distance. Very...polygonal mountains

_AUGH, shaking-?!_

"Robin?!" Elro was shaking her by the shoulders, _ow ow ow _it hurt so much! Her _head_...-!

"What happened?" It was Ms. Vaswani, looming over them. "Did one of you trigger a lapse in the-"  
"Satya?!"

Ms. Vaswani was spun around toward the muffled call. It was Winston, still standing beside Dr. Hiyajo. Except...they were-..._huh?_

Her blurry vision clearing up as Elro helped her to her feet, Robin realized that while the three of them had arrived 'Elsewhere,' the 'Other Side,' whatever it was being referred to that day...Maho and Winston were still in the transmat station, the Ivory Room. Maho was practically huddling behind Winston's massive form, checking her tablet device from the sterile, white-tiled floor. They were still in the lab. But Robin, Elro and Vaswani weren't. It was more like...Winston and Maho were standing within a sort of...round _bubble_? Like a pocket of reality? A hexagonal pattern lined the bubble space they warily stood within. Almost like a barrier? _Wait, _this looked familiar...

Vaswani marched up to this 'bubble,' seemingly unfazed by the bizarre space they found themselves within. Had she seen this place before? _Wait, _were they breathing? Was there air? Robin _felt _like she was breathing..._ough. _Her heartbeat felt _weird, _though, like she could _feel _her neck undulating, her head throbbing, every pulse amplified the more she focused on it. It was making her a bit dizzy, so she tried to focus on the conversation going on instead. Elro had pulled her over to Vaswani's side.

Pressing her palms against the field Winston and Maho were within, Satya seemed...strangely quiet.

Winston took a deep breath, tapping his finger against a metal pin on his chest. "Good to know this works," he said with a light-hearted expression and a nervous laugh.

"Your barrier projector," Robin murmured in a daze, recollecting having assisted him a couple weeks back on the prototype. It made her wonder – if something as small as a pin-sized unit could produce something like this, what was that medallion he'd fashioned for that one lady used for? Surely something relating to her condition...He always got secretive and guarded when that woman was brought up. Even with Maho, minutes before, he'd referred to her as an 'important patient,' not by name.

"It never hurts to be prepared," Winston mused, seemingly surprised himself at how well it was working.

"How is it _doing _this?" Robin asked, referring to the projector. It had been built to use kinetic energy to repel force – ie protect someone from danger. And while it _was _technically doing that...-

"A, erm, unintended use, to be sure," Winston mumbled, wiping fog from his glasses. "We seem grounded in our proper metaphysical location. So...-" He shrugged. "That's preferred, at least."

"What is going _on?_" Vaswani said irritably, pounding the side of her fist against the barrier. "Open this at once. Let us back in."

"O-Oh, I, um-...Please don't hit that," Winston said warily, shoving his eyewear back on. Scratching at his beard a bit, he surveyed their surroundings. "I _can't _'let you back in,' exactly. I believe something malfunctioned again with the transmat unit, affecting the entire chamber. My projector seems to have preserved our position in our own plane, but...-"

"If the barrier breaks, you will be stuck here with us," Vaswani surmised with a groan, stepping back from the hexagonally patterned wall of blue light. Rubbing at her chin with the elbow in her opposing hand, she pondered.

"Is _this _the Other Side?" Robin asked, removing herself from her brother's grip as she began to marvel at the strange place they found themselves in. The horizon off behind them contained a faint sunset of sorts, only...like, not a _real _sunset? The way the sky's colors faintly hued from black to purple to orange was...mechanical. Like a gradient composed of solid bands of shades, not a gradual fade of natural light. The grid of green lines across the sky was also simultaneously comforting and unsettling. Off in the distance was...a city? Maybe? _Kind _of. More like the _shape _of a city? All in purple. Lines of purple, rising from the ground, off in the distance. Like an unfinished illustration. She could even make out...a _road, _somewhere in the distance, across the dunescape, with a polygonal mountain scape beyond that.

"This must be where Agent Black got stranded," Elro theorized, wandering off slightly to try and scope out...all of this _space._

"_Ha! _Yes, OK-OK," Maho was mumbling to herself after a satisfied cheer of accomplishment. Everyone turned their attention to her. She was finagling with her tablet. "Hello?" she called at it.

Through some static, a voice spoke.

[ "́..͢.̧H̵ell͘o?̴" ̨] Someone responded, but the reception was very fuzzy.

Maho flashed Winston a relieved look of pride and he nodded back, seemingly impressed.

"Liv?" said Winston with a forlorn look about him. "Can you hear us?"

[̷ "L̨ou͘d͠ ͘a͠n̷d-..͘.̨W͏e̴l̷l͠, I ̡c͘an _h̵eaŕ_ y̨oú, ̀àn҉y͜w̴a͏y,"̵ ]̢ said 'Liv.' _Oh, _wait, this was that engineer from FutureGadget, right? She was still in the observation room. [ "͢Wh̴a͝t ̷th̸e he̶ll͠ ̡hap̴pen̷e̸d ̷t̶o yo͢u? ̨Ẁhere͝ _are_ you? Th͡ęr͘e̢'͠s.̴..̷ĺi͜ḱe,̧ ̶s̨omę ̀weird cloud or ̕s̵o͞ḿe҉t͢h҉ing͠ in͞ t̶h́ȩ ́ch̵a͘mb̷er̨. ̕Something flashed and you all popped out of there." ]

Maho had been irritably tweaking some settings on the tablet as 'Liv' spoke, tuning their connection and making it more clear.

"We need you to start up the transmat unit," Maho advised, wasting no time. "Re-initiate the closing sequence."

[̀ "Ųh.̛.̵.-" ] Some murmurs and commotion. [ "I ͜d͘on't͘ th͘i͞n̷k a͞nyb͘ody ́he͏ré ͟q͡u͏it̶e kn͏ows͡ ̀h̷o̵w ͘to͟ _d͞o̴ _t͘hat. T̀h̡e ͝o͠n̵l̷y̷ ͞au̧th͏o͟riz̢ed ͢per͟son̴n̸ȩl͢ ͢f̵oŕ t͘h̵e ̀j͡ob͠ ͝a͡re al̢l ͞o͠n͜ ͢you̵r şid́e̶ of ̛thi͟s͟ ҉m̵e̸s̡s̡.̡ Yo͏ú _mig̵ht͠_ ͜ǹee̸d to̶ g̡iv́e͘ u̢s҉ ̡some ̷in̵s̶truct̸i̴ons.̢.̧."́ ́]

Robin saw Maho's expression curdle momentarily, like she was about to punch someone. She shoved the tablet at Winston, citing, "I do _not _have the patience for this shit right now."

"Wh-...? I, uh...-" Poor Winston meekly flinched, flustered as he caught the tablet and oriented it right-side up. "H-Hello?"

[ ̨"W̶ęll͜, ̧_B̛i͞g͝ G̛uy̷_," ] said Liv from the other end, [ ̵"͏lo̷o̧ks ͘l̢ike͠ įt̀'҉s̨ u͜p ͝t̨o _y̨o̧u_ ̵to ̶w̵alk͏ me͝ th͏r͏ou̸gh ̸t̀h̶is.̡" ͏]

"...Right," sighed Winston. Aw. Robin could tell he was really annoyed. She got the impression that he and this 'Liv' lady didn't get along so well. Definitely some bad history there...

"Um, so," Robin said to Maho, who was approaching the barrier's edges to observe the landscape around them.

"A digital construct?" Maho was mumbling to herself, eyes wide at the vast, unnatural environs.

"Hiyajo? Ma'am?" Robin prodded, lightly tapping her finger against the barrier to attract the awed Doctor's focus. "What should _we _do?"

"Huh? _You three _need to track down Agent Black," Dr. Hiyajo commanded, poking a snippy finger against the barrier twice.

"_Excuse _me," Satya balked. "You do not give orders to _me._"

"Look, lady," Maho grumbled through clenched teeth. Her Satya's gazes laser-burned into each other for a tense moment. "I'm not one of your lackeys, and neither is _he_," she reminded, flicking a wrist at Winston, who looked a bit bashful to be getting called out.

[̀ ̢".͟..H͟ello̡?̵ Y̕ou ştil̀ĺ ͏th͝er͏e?"͟ ͜]  
"R-right, sorry. So, first you'll need to ensure that-"

"And that _aside,_" Maho pointed out, "this is a life or death situation, Satya. One of our most valuable assets is _lost _somewhere in this place, and, by the way, she _is _a human being. In case you forgot. Not to _mention, _it _is _your fault she's _lost _out here in the first place! We're not letting her _die, _or elseI will fucking _report _it and this _entire _operation will-"  
"_You've made your point_," Satya seethed, her syllables cold as ice.

Satya's face was boiling with what Robin could only perceive as a spicy blend of anger and embarrassment, her arms crossed, fingers drumming irritably against her own biceps.

"Think practically, Satya." Maho sighed. "Do you _want _your subject back, or not? This is probably the only chance you're going to get. As soon as they get the transmat back online we _should _be able to use this barrier projector to chain off of our call, use that to pinpoint a pickup location for an exit. But that's going to take a few minutes, so you might as well use that time productively."

Robin was hardly surprised that Maho had already calculated a plan. The woman was sharper than her gloomy mood let on. And she _was _close with Winston, so he'd likely already let her in on the workings of the barrier projector. Heck, for all Robin knew, she might've helped him _design _the thing.

In either case, Agent Black was still lost out here somewhere, it seemed.

"I'll look for her," Robin spat out, offering her help on instinct. There was no way she was going to stand around being useless when someone was in danger.

"_Hey, _whoa-whoa-whoa," Elro said sharply, his palm crushing against her forearm as he prevented her from walking off.

"_Stop-!_" she grunted back at him, fiercely shrugging off his overprotective grip. Swiping a defiant hand through the air, Robin declared, "We're _here, _she is _lost, _I'm _looking _for her."

Elro absorbed her harsh, fiery glare until he knew she had won before any argument had begun.

"Fine, I'm coming with you," Elro conceded.

Robin shot Ms. Vaswani a look, seeking her approval in as much as she was going to do this, regardless. This was, after all, the perfect opportunity to prove herself to the stubborn woman.

Vaswani admitted, "Black has proven to be compatible with the program beyond expectations. She is a valued asset, as Hiyajo says. If you can retrieve her...then do so."

"And you?" Elro asked.

"I'll remain here in case anything develops," Vaswani advised. "If a return portal is activated, I will inform you immediately."

Robin and Vaswani's eyes seemed to tip-toe around each other's intentions momentarily. Part of Robin couldn't help but wonder how this could all go wrong, but...Satya wasn't a bad person. Robin believed this, at least. Robin did not know exactly to what end the research they were conducting was building toward, but she knew _enough _to understand how it could help the citizens of Arcadia who needed it.

"Let's go," sighed Robin, marching off into the wild, starkly quiet world around them. Each step she took unsettled dust from the ground they stood upon, like waking particles long asleep. As Robin took note of the unnaturally low gravity affecting the dust – but not her steps – Robin caught sight something else odd: there was a trail of foot prints off to her left.

A cursory glance back made her realize the steps came from the very spot where they had arrived in this odd place. But the foot prints couldn't be their own – Robin was the first to leave their location.

"What is it?" Elro asked, quickly followed by, "_Oh, _uh...-" He'd noticed them, too.

Robin nodded to him with some reaffirmation that they were making the right decision, here. There were mounds and hills off in the direction of the trail, which seemed to be headed toward what semblance of a city appeared in the distance. Robin's theory was that Black had arrived at the exact same spot they had – which made sense, given her understanding of this whole phenomenon being tampered with. Having been stranded here, Madelyn had seen the road across the way, and the city beyond, and had made a go of it. But there was no sight of anyone on that road (if _looked _vaguely like a road, anyway), and Robin found it dubious that Madelyn would have made it _that _far in such a short time, given the unstable terrain.

Whoever's foot prints these were, they were their only lead.

"I think we've found something," Robin called back to Ms. Vaswani as they followed the imprints with care. "There's a trail!"

Winston was still babbling at the engineer on the other end, and Vaswani and Hiyajo paused in what looked like a heated argument. Vaswani gestured her hand at them dismissively, commanding, "Then _follow it_ and return quickly!"

With an irate puff of hot air through her nostrils and a roll of her head around her neck, Robin shook off her frustration and sped up her pace.

Elro coughed a bit from the dust his sister was kicking up, choking out, "Robin-! _Gurk-! _Slow dow-..._gakk-!_"

Robin scrambled up the crest of a dune, which looked worn from someone else having recently done the same. To her surprise, the opposite side cascaded down much further than she'd have anticipated. It was a solid couple of stories down, into some kind of ditch that appeared to line the side of the road-like..._path _beyond.

And sprawled out in the center of that ditch was Agent Black.

Without even thinking, Robin sprung into action to help. Sliding down the dune of sand-like dust, Robin shouted, "_Madelyn?!_" As she cautiously slid closer, she could tell that Madelyn – Agent Black – was unconscious, curled into a fetal position.

What could've happened to her so close to her arrival to leave her in such a state? Had she passed out from shock, or nausea? Maybe overcome by one of her cluster headaches?

"Robin?!" Elro shouted back from behind her. She could hear Vaswani's muffled, distant voice cry out something indistinct from above.

"It's her!" Robin explained, skidding to a stop and falling to her knees. The ground was strangely soft but solid beneath, like a sandbox. Whatever hard surface her knees hit beneath the gray particles, it was...cold. And kind of damp. Arriving in this place – the bottom of this eerie ditch – sent a shiver up Robin's spine. "Madelyn," Robin huffed, quickly crawling the distance to the woman's side.

"..._hrrnnmm..._-?"

Thank the Trinity, Madelyn was still alive! She was...-!

Wha...-?

As Agent Black rolled out onto her back side, Robin made a blood-curdling discovery.

Agent Black had no arms.

Just..._nothing_ where her arms should've been.

Madelyn wasn't bleeding, though. The ends of her shoulders, where her arms _should _have started, were...just stumps, like...they'd been seared over in an instant. Fleshy, maroon stumps. Scraps of clothing rested in the dusty sand at Madelyn's sides, the same shade as her uniform's jacket. It looked like her arms had been..._removed. _And yet there wasn't a trace of blood. Somehow, this made an already disturbing sight all the more unsettling.

"Rrr...-?" Madelyn winced, her eyes wide and blood-shot. Her face was gaunt, and her bitter, growling voice was shaken and soft. "Robin...? The hell're...-?"

"Black!" Elro called, "Is she safe?!"

"_Rrrrrbbb...-?_" Madelyn eked out, coughing hoarsely. She looked anything _but_ relieved.

"I, _uhhh_...-!" Robin's voice cracked with uncertain alarm as she shrugged. Turning to her brother briefly, she replied, "She's _alive_."

"Let's get her out of here, then!" Elro said with impatience, beginning to make the trek down, though much more carefully than Robin had.

Robin scooped up Agent Black's head in her arm, tilting the poor woman up and leaning Madelyn up against her own body for support. Coughing and sputtering out a small cloud of the dust she'd been laying within, Madelyn's eyes began darting frantically around them.

"_What _in the...-?" Elro had noticed it just now, it seemed. That Agent Black had no arms.

"Are you OK?" Robin asked her quietly. "What-? Y-Your arms, they...-"  
"They're _gone_," Madelyn seethed, the blood vessels in her forehead throbbing with rage. She whispered with a crazed chuckle under her breath: "Words don't make changes. Wounds do..."

"...What?" Robin was lost.

"That..._thing, _it-..." Madelyn paused. "W-Wait, wh-...How're you _here_?" she asked, growing panicked. "Where is it? Where did it go...?"

Robin felt her throat tighten as she tried to swallow. Her neck stung and she felt her breathing stop when Agent Black flinched and glared up at her. The hairs on Robin's arms prickled all out and upward, and she could feel a freezing tingle quivering at every strand of hair on her head.

Robin dared to ask, "Where'd..._what _go?"

"That _thing!_" Madelyn hissed quietly, her anger withered into petrified fear. "It did this to me! If we don't...-"  
"What's the hold up?" Elro snapped, stumbling down the bottom of the incline. "We need to get her _out _of here, before...-"

The ground had begun to shake. Not an earthquake, but a localized trembling. Out of the opposing wall of the ditch they found themselves sunk within, the dust-like gray sand was _moving._

From beneath the dust emerged..._something._It smelled...like _battery _acid?  
Reeked of the was white, if it was _any _color. An amorphous..._blob _of...shapes. Vaguely like a person? Only without features, without details. Its appearance _changed_, morphed, constantly, like a TV station trying to tune itself in but phasing between channels. It was mesmerizing, hypnotizing, and horrifying, all at once.

"oh din oh din oh din," Madelyn was wincing, whimpering, shuddering her face into Robin's stomach. "it's back it's back it's..."

Robin's heart skipped a beat when it arrived, and yet...the entity just stood there. Well, 'stood?' It had no legs, um-...It was still...tuning itself into this version of reality they were currently occupying.

"_Robin,_" Elro snarled. "Whatever that is, it's _bad news, _get off your ass and _move_."

Robin managed to unparalyze herself enough to hustle up from her knees to her feet, pulling up Agent Black along. But the poor woman seemed off balance without her arms, dazed and afraid as she was.

"Elro, I need you to...-" Robin was grunting, trying to get him to help her. Without arms to latch around their shoulders, it was...going to be a bit of a task, getting Madelyn up and out of this ditch.

"Here, let me...-" Elro huffed, signaling Robin to hand the woman's body over. Robin fumbled her palms between the backs of Agent Black's knees and Elro managed to hold her in his arms. The pair began to trudge up the incline together, attempting to ignore the creature forming itself behind them.

Agent Black had passed out, from the look of it. Probably from the shock of things, if Robin had to guess. It was downright alarming to be seeing the woman so out of sorts, so...out of herself, _without _entire parts _of_ herself, this was-...Ahhhh, um, this was just...-

**"_-_)!$^$*& !))!()$(!$#_! #$ $% &!_)&*($)($! "**

Robin's heart nearly burst from her chest at the shockingly loud sound that erupted from behind them.

It was...like the sound of a dial-up connection establishing itself.

Simultaneously astounded and petrified, Robin turned around.

The creature that had emerged from the opposing incline was now closer to them than it had been, occupying the space where Madelyn's body had laid. It remained still when Robin was looking at it – or, well, it was _moving, _undulating, but not approaching.

Where it had been a shifting blob before, it now...had a _smile. _And then another smile. And another smile. Different parts of it were smiling, undulating, throbbing. And yet, they weren't _natural _smiles. It was more like...it created _absences _of flesh to _emulate _the appearance of a smile. It was disconcerting.

It had arms now, too. It waved to her with them, its many smiles bobbing and colliding into one another. It didn't...seem to have arms where arms were supposed to go, however. Not unlike every other aspect of a body it attempted to grow, the limbs were not at all correct. The arms looked _solid, _at least, unlike most of it. Perhaps it was gradually figuring itself out?

"Wh...-?" Robin was aghast. What _was _this thing? She'd heard about the kinds of experiments FutureGadget and Aperture had been conducting. Was this some kind of...-?

Robin's phone rang. The sound echoed eerily through the sandy ditch and toward the green-gridded sky above.

"_Move it!_" Elro snarled, gasping for air as he struggled to carry Agent Black up the difficult slope.

Robin was stuck in place, glued by curiosity and wonder and fear, her boots filling with dust all the while. Her phone rang a second time.

She took it out.

[ Call from... ]  
[ Unknown ]

What in the...-?

She accepted the call, and pulled the phone up to her ear, keeping her eye on the disturbing being below her.

She could hear...some kind of echoing static.

And then a voice – no, _voices_ – spoke, in unison, through her phone's speaker.

[ "Come [ **"Come ** [ _"Come_  
join **join ** _join _  
the **the ** _the _  
fun." ] **fun."** ] _fun."_ ]

The figure before her waved at her again, with both arms, beckoning her.

It was...communicating with her through her _phone?  
_Was it sentient? Was it in pain? Did it...need _help, _or...-?

"I-I don't un-...understand," Robin whispered into her phone. Her voice was shaking, each syllable a monumental task to form. Her hand was trembling. Her knees felt unsteady. Her stomach was emptied, replaced with its eerie reply. "Whhh-...? Why are you-...? _What _are you?"

It replied.

**[ **_**"**__**Lorem **_**[ **_**"**__**Lorem **_**[ **_**"**__**Lorem  
ipsum ipsum ipsum  
docet"**_** ] **_** docet"**_** ] **_** docet"**_** ]**

"Robin!" Elro roared. She could hear him tumble a bit. She looked up, seeing him having gotten a bit stuck into the side of the incline. Agent Black was sliding down a bit as he struggled to regain his balance.

Robin shoved her phone into her pocket, ignoring the fascinating yet horrifying _thing _behind her, and struggled her way up to where Agent Black was, face down in the gray sand. She slung the woman up and over her shoulder – it took some work, but Robin was strong enough to manage it, barely. Must've been the missing weight...? _Eugh. _Robin managed to get Agent Black the rest of the way up, her muscles giving out. Dropping Madelyn against the dune's peak, Robin collapsed beside her.

Madelyn had come back to and was mumbling incoherently, angrily, thrashing her legs weakly.

"Vaswa...-!" Robin panted out to the others in the distance, coughing as her suddenly dry throat tried to guzzle air that she wasn't even sure existed in this place.

Robin felt herself slipping into slumber, until she was stirred awake by a horrified scream from behind.

This was followed up by some frustrated, terrified growling.

"-..._aahhh, _y-you fucking_...-! _NGH, ngh, _hrah-!_"

Elro was having a _not good time._

Pushing herself up from the top of the dune by her elbows, Robin blearily peered down.

The creature was now perched on the slope, leering over at Elro with a single eye, its many smiles now gone. Robin's adrenaline was pumping along now, and she nudged herself off the dune's edge, quickly finding her footing.

"_Leave him alone!_" Robin screeched at the thing, skidding down and kicking at the creature with her momentum. This pushed it backward slightly, though it seemed unfazed otherwise.

Grasping at her brother to help him up, Robin's gaze remained locked on the beast.

That single _eye _conveyed a startling amount of pain and fear.  
And Robin's chest froze up when she realized that the eye was _very _familiar.

"That _fucker_!" Elro winced, shaking like a leaf.

Robin glanced at her brother, only to realize that there was a _hole _in his face where his left eye was supposed to be. Just a fleshy _hole, _seared shut. Her jaws clenched, she re-examined the creature, who was squirming slowly up toward them.

The single eye that blinked back at her was, indeed, her brother's eye. And as it re-grew its very solid, human arms, using them to pull itself up the slope, Robin suddenly suspected she knew where Madelyn's missing limbs had gone off to.

Horrified and furious at once, Robin yanked Elro upward. She scrambled, she fought against the dusty sand, and gravity, and the threat leering from behind. Adrenaline-induced strength got her up, higher and higher. She ignored Elro's huffs, his whimpers, his growls, his thrashing.

They were getting out of this. She was making sure of it.

"-..._asshole!_" Elro snarled. "What the _fuck?! HOW?_"

A quick glance and Robin realized that while he had fended the creature off, knocking it back down the ditch,...Elro's other arm was gone.

Robin couldn't afford to linger. She was so close to the top. She could see Agent Black's body had been moved, pulled further in-land. Vaswani must've heard the commotion.

"Our exit is _forming_!" Vaswani's voice called out to them.

And thankfully, just as Robin worried her body would give out, Vaswani appeared at the edge of the slope, extending a desperate arm out. Robin, with Elro's still-attached arm clutched around her own, lashed out her free hand to reach Vaswani's.

But as she was being pulled upward, something _rushed _up and over her back, _grabbing _at her, clawing against her, pushing istelf _off _of her. It smelt of batteries, pungent and nausea inducing. It was the creature that had been chasing them.

It had just..._climbed _overtop her, boosting itself off of Robin's head, lunging for Satya, and...-?

Vaswani gasped, groaned, stumbling back and kicking the beast off of her.

Sucking air through grit teeth with wide-eyed horror, Satya grasped at her left shoulder with her right arm.

Her left arm was gone.

This thing...seemed to have quite an appetite, and Robin was beginning to wonder why it hadn't taken a 'bite' out of her yet.

As the creature tumbled back down into the ditch behind Robin, bouncing and falling apart on the way down, she exchanged a quick expression with Satya, and a quick glance at Satya's fresh appendage stump. Neither knew what to do or say.

This was all kinds of bad.

Recovering from her shock, Robin pushed the rest of the way up the dune, tugging at Elro.

"The _hell _is _that _thing?!" Hiyajo was, understandably, alarmed, her exclamation heard even from the distance.

Beside the barrier projector – in the spot where the transmat unit had existed relative to Winston and Maho's position – Robin could make out an ovular shape forming...slowly.

Much more slowly than Robin felt comfortable with, given what was going on around them.

Robin, the only person with her whole body in tact at this point, got Elro onto his feet (at least he still had both of _those, _right?), and she didn't need to encourage him to hustle. She yanked Satya Vaswani up, ignoring the woman's traumatized expression for lack of time, and snapped, "_Move_!" This message was received plainly, as Vaswani shambled herself toward their impending exit from this freakish encounter.

As Maho and Winston growled frantically at one another, Robin focused on her designated task: one Madelyn Binoche. Robin was going to save her. All of this _crazy _stuff wasn't going to be for nothing. Saddling the woman over her shoulders like a canvas bag, Robin grunted an apology to the wincing woman and carried her toward the barrier projector.

**"_-_)!$^$*& !))!()$(!$#_! #$ $% &!_)&*($)($! "**

That unsettling _noise _was uttered again, echoing out from within the pit beyond. The creature was still...alive? Around? It was still _there. _And it was probably not finished with _whatever _it was intending to do.

"-to do _something! _We can't just _sit here!_"  
"What do you _expect _me to do, Maho? This is-!"  
[͠ "҉Gi̸ve ̀me a ͢s͘e̸c͘.̴"̨ ]  
"...Liv?"  
[ ̵"͡I'͟ve g͞ot ̀an i̢d͠ea,͡ j̸us̛t̡ ̢shút u҉p̶ for ̀o͝nȩ ͘s͟ec̴o͞n̡d!" ̡]̡

As Robin collapsed beside the barrier, Madelyn fell beside Elro, who was catching his breath and grasping at where his eye had once been with the one arm he still had. Satya was likewise studying what she clearly _thought _should have been an injury, but was...just...an empty space with a stump.

Robin was so fucking tired. Her muscles were on fire. But she could keep going if she needed to. She could...try to fight off this..._thing, _long enough for the others to escape, if she had to. She could...-

[͟ ̢"̡Ỳou͡ c̡onnéct҉ed̶?̵ Ga̴b͝e?"̢ ]  
"Wait. _Gabe_?" Winston sounded alarmed, which was saying something with what was transpiring.  
[ ̷"Ssh҉h!̨" ]̨ Miss Calomar hissed at him. [͟ ҉"̨G̶a͢b͢e͠,͜ y͟ou̧ ͘c͡op̢y?" ͝]

[ "Som-...Calomar. I read you." ]  
[ ̀"We ̢ne҉e͜d ́y͟o͡u,͠ AŚAP̨.̢ ͠C̴an y̛ou trac̡e ̵t͠h́e͘i͢r ̡c̡o̸ordi͏na͏t́e͠s̕ ̸f͝ro͟m̧ ̢this̢ ͞ća͢ll?͜"͝ ]  
[ "...Rrrmph." ]  
[ "¡͠G̵a͞b͜e҉!͜ ¡͝C̡ulo͜!̸ ͞This ́is f҉uck͘i͏n͟g ͏s͢eŗi̧o͢u̢s͟!"̢ ]̧  
[ "Acknowledged." ]  
[҉ ̵"Get͜ on͠ it҉,͢ then!̵ F͞u͜ckin҉ǵ ̴help͟ ͟th͢èm!" ]  
[ "Repositioning..." ]

Robin wasn't sure what the heck was going on in the call chatter, but shortly after this exchange, a black wisp of curling smoke seeped out of the ground before them. Like some kind of a hellish steam, it rose from between the grains of gray dust, and quickly solidified into the shape of...a man?

Not, like, a man-ish object, or some bizarre conglomeration of man-like pieces, but a Farore-made _man_, dressed in a dark cloak and hood, wielding a pair of entirely-too-large guns in both hands. His face looked worse for wear, however, as it was incredibly scarred, and black smoke was pooling out of those scars in a slow, steady drizzle.

The lot of them were confused, alarmed, and altogether unsure if they were supposed to be terrified or relieved.

"..._Gabriel?!_" Winston exclaimed, evidently recognizing the phantom of a man. "Is that really you?"

"No time for a chat, doc," said the mysterious 'Gabe,' glancing around. "You need something killed? I'm your Reaper."

"Th-There's some-...some kind of..._something_, all right," Maho eked out, pointing off toward the ditch Vaswani had kicked the creature back down.

Vaswani tried to explain, "Some manner of..._amalgam _has been...-" She gestured her right hand toward the stump where her left arm should've been, her expression horrified and confused, as if this were some drug-induced trip she was waiting to wake from.

"Oh. One of _those,_" 'Gabe' sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Al's 'pets.' Probably smell blood in the water." Turning to Hiyajo and Winston, he pointed out, "I can't maintain my connection for long. The feeding frenzy'll start soon if you don't get them outta here."

"Fffff-...Feeding...-?" Elro winced. Robin tried to comfort him with a clamped hand on his shoulder. She was regaining some wind in her sails.

[ ̷"Y͞ou͠r ̛ba̡c҉kdoor͝ ͘outt̛a t͞hat͞ p̶l̷acȩ is͜ ҉gene̡ra̧ti̵ng,"̷ ̵] said Calomar from the other end. [ "̷Bu͜t ͞i̶t'̴s ̷g͝o̷i̧n̶g ͏tǫ ̡ta̷k҉ȩ ҉a ̷mi͘nut̵e̡..͏."̀ ]

Indeed, there _was _an orange-laced, ovular portal forming, growing slowly, from the place the transmat unit had been standing. The portal's substance was ephemeral as it slowly enlarged, unable to be traversed as of yet. There had to be enough of the Anamoly's energy coursing through the circuit to create an actual loop to travel through.

In other words, they needed to buy some time.

"We've still got company," Elro cried out with alarm, pointing out a shaking hand at the _thing _re-emerging from the ravine they had barely escaped from. It had _friends _now, too.

"On it," said Gabe, casually striding towards the beasts, his weapons armed.

The sound of his guns cracking out shots at the creatures was deafening in the emptiness they resided within. Robin watched in awe and bewildered fear as the strange man in black dodged the beast by changing his form into black mist, dissipating and reforming at will, it seemed. Whatever he was, he wasn't your average human. Calomar had called him in, hadn't she? Then this 'Gabe' person was probably one of FutureGadget's little 'projects' she'd been hearing rumblings about? Elro had even participated, indirectly, in aiding them a while back. Dr. Alphys had a reputation within the circles Robin was connected to. No one seemed to trust her and some even feared her, which was...actually pretty alarming when you _met her _and she was...well, who she was.

So this was how it was, huh?

People like Vaswani or Alphys making a mess of things, and, what, people like Winston and Maho cleaning it up?

Robin was a cleaner-upper, though.

As Gabe fended off the other beasts that had appeared, the original one – the one that had 'taken' pieces of Robin's colleagues – had noticed the recuperating group beside the barrier projector. It was approaching them, and Gabe was far too occupied to do anything about it, lest he bring the _rest _of the creatures upon them.

Robin would have to try defending them on her own.

Robin yanked her wrench out of her belt and began pelting the creature with it as a makeshift weapon. When it caught wise, it used one of its acquired hands – Vaswani's, from the look of it – to wrest the metal tool from Robin's grip, twisting her wrist unpleasantly in the process. The wrench fell to the gray ground as Robin cried in pain, her muscles tightening as she continued to struggle.

In the chaos, she could hear Gabe roaring at the beasts as his weapons continued firing off in a crazed flurry.  
**"Die!...Die!...DIE!"**

The whirring hum of the portal had become louder and louder, and Robin could feel its glow at the corners of her peripheral vision, still wrestling against the white _blob _upon her.

She could hear Winston and Maho shouting, yelling, commotion behind her...hazy and out of focus when a battery-stenched monster was trying to overpower one.

The creature was clawing its stolen hands against Robin's head, her shoulders, her legs...  
It was frisking her. As if it were _looking _for something. It pulled out her phone, shaking it wildly, and emitted that ear-rattling 'roar.'

**"_-_)!$^$*& !))!()$(!$#_! #$ $% &!_)&*($)($! "**

The phone began to ring. Not that Robin could answer it, crushed beneath the creature's weight.

"Get _off _me!" Robin snarled. She kicked at it. She screamed, she winced, she growled, she thrashed, she slapped, she punched...Nothing seemed to work.

The beast tilted itself slightly, its eye – _Elro's eye – _narrowing at her.

"Why are you _doing this?!_" Robin screamed at the amalgamation. "You _monster!_ Leave us _alone!_"

The 'monster' threw the phone to the dust, and it created a makeshift smile out of empty space.

The four hands it now possessed all _squeezed _at Robin. One against her skull, two against her arms, and the last against her _neck. _She fought, she struggled, yelling and screaming as loud as she could until her voice gave out.

Her neck was on fire, burning, stinging, to the point that breathing felt impossible.

The creature was thrust off of her just as she thought she would pass out. After coughing back to consciousness, she realized it had been Elro. He'd picked up her wrench and clocked the beast with his one remaining arm, shoulder-tackling it off of Robin.

_Elro! Don't!_

As relieved as she was for the save, the last thing she wanted was for her brother to..._lose _something else.

As Vaswani feebly used her one good arm to ease herself and a half-conscious Agent Black through the portal – now fully formed – Robin paddled her arms back against the unstable ground until she was sitting upright.

"It's up, it's up!" Maho was screaming.  
"Get out of there!" Winston cried out.

But Robin couldn't just leave her brother.

Elro was swooping back toward her as she tried to catch her breath – but he was halted before he could reach her.

This..._thing, _it had Elro _caught. _Toppled onto his stomach, his legs seemed stuck in the white blob, like clay. Was it...-? What, was it trying to _eat him _now, or-...?!

He was trying to use his only arm, wrench still gripped within, to claw at the ground, to free himself from his plight. Robin fumbled her body over, desperately reaching out her hands, grabbing his wrist, pulling with all of her might, digging her boots into the ground, kicking up a gray cloud in the commotion.

_Let him go!  
Let him go!_

She leaned herself back, eyes shut tight, jaws grinding together, arms flexing with every last ounce of adrenaline she could muster. She fought. She struggled. She refused to give up, regardless of how fucked up any of this was.

At _last, _she fell back onto her side, having pulled Elro free from the...-

Elro's arm.

She had...freed his arm.  
Which was still clutching the wrench.

The rest of Elro was...gone.

Her heart pounding like a thunderous drum, Robin glared at the amalgamation with fury, squeezing at Elro's disembodied arm in terrified confusion.

_What did you do with him?! Give him back! GIVE HIM BACK!  
KEEP HIS FUCKING ARM BUT LET ME KEEP THE REST OF HIM!_

The creature was changing again before her. Incorporating the new material it had obtained. But it didn't know what to do with it. Elro's other eye appeared on Madelyn's left hand. Elro's right leg jutted out of its back, his left leg out of its hip. It was using arms like spider-legs, it had ears on its forehead, it...-

"Robin! Robin, you need to get out of there!"  
"Get off your ass, idiot!"

Winston and Maho were screaming, their voices muffled by the barrier.

Tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks, Robin realized she was still holding Elro's severed arm in her hands. She pried his fingers open without difficulty, retrieving the wrench, in case she had to fight this horrifying _thing _off once more. She forced herself to drop Elro's arm, backpedaling away from the beast, unable to look away from it. Her back pushed up against the barrier, and the shouting of the scientists from the other side faded into the background of her consciousness.

A gaping _hole _formed on the creature, smack in the middle of its amorphous body.

Sound emitted from the hole, but this time, it was echoing Robin's own words back at her, in her own voice.

"̦̤͈̫̙̼̳**W̱͈̭h̪y͉͍̮͇̝̲ ̴͖͎̬a͟ṛ̸̙̥͙ͅͅͅe̦̯̟͎͚̗ y̩̣͚͘o̺̮̝̯̥̖̹̕u͞ ̜̺̹̣̯̮̬**_**d̸̰o̗̳̗̥̦̝̹i͖͚̺ṇ͍̟̱̱g̰̲̮̻**_** ̲̫̞̣̥͝t̠̥̺h̛̲̠i̸͚̗s̶̥̞̖̜̥̯͙?͍̙͝!̹̟̟̤̕**"̣͕̻̺͢

_Yes! WHY?! What is this?!_

It shouted at her again, parroting more of her words.

**"̬Y̲̥o̘̲̭u͇ ̬̱͖͙̥͕m̖͈̗͈͖̙ͅo̠̬̹̩ns̤̼̳t͈̮̣e̮̬͙r͖͚!̺̥̪͈͖̹͖ ̲L͖e̟̹̹a͓̻̤v͎̹̲̟e͔ ͔̱us͙͚̗̺̤̙ͅ ̞̥͔a̫̣̼̲͇ḻo̫͙̟̠͔n̫̤̱̰̫͉e͖̙̳̭̙!̘̫̫"̲ **

_What are you?! WHY is this happening?!_

Robin had...meant to _say _these words. The previous ones, too.  
But she hadn't. She couldn't.  
Her lips had moved, her throat had tried to push the words out, to no avail.  
She coughed, tried to clear her throat, but...something was wrong.

She couldn't speak.  
It wasn't that something was blocking her throat, however.

It was more like there was just _nothing _where the part of her that produced a voice was supposed to be.

That disturbing maw in the monster's chest spoke again, in Robin's voice, seemingly answering her question from before with words Madelyn had spoken minutes prior.

"͉̗͉̲̕**W̰̥͕͍o̭̦̯r͕͝d̼̹͔̙ͅs̲͉͝ ͙̞̲̥̣͜d͇̳o̘̬̬̥̠n͈̹̦̟̘'͉̼̟ṱ̻͍ ̢̜m̱̱̤͚̰͚̭a̲̩͕̼̩̱k͎̝̦e̞̖̹̭̪̲̲ ̧̥̻c̷h̜̤̣̤an̪̘̩̦g̷͎͍͉è̙s͎̭͕̣.̬̙͓̥̣ ̬̣W̖͟ͅọ̻̠͡ͅu̙̬̙̕n̶ḓs̫̰ ̺̳̩ḓ̩o̹͈͔͙̺̠̖͟.̟͚̹͙̖̦̀ͅ**"̷̤̼͚̰

Its arms-for-legs suddenly skittered wildly as it dove for Robin before she could reach the portal.

_Please, please, please...-!_

Robin scrambled to get back on her feet as quickly as she could. When she did, though...-  
It was as if everything around her had...stopped? Faded. Her vision became hazy. She couldn't move. Nothing was moving. Everything was still. And then she heard him.

**-Robin. I'm-...Damnit. I'm sorry. I knew you weren't supposed to be involved with this. I **_**tried **_**to get you to stay out of it, but...-**

It was Elro's voice. She couldn't see him, she couldn't tell where his voice was coming from, only that it was his, and that it was close.

**-Well. It is what it is. As long as you make it out of here safe, that's all that matters.-**

_Elro...!_

She couldn't speak. Something was _very wrong. _Why couldn't she speak?! Had that _thing _done something to her?

**-It's all right, Sunflower. I think I get it now. I get what's been going on around here. And I'd rather be a part of it than-...-**

_No! You're coming with me! We're both getting out of here! Maybe if we take that..._thing_ with us, we can save you, remove you from it somehow, and-  
__**-**_**No, Robin. You **_**cannot **_**let that thing out of here. It doesn't realize what it's doing. Who **_**knows **_**what damage it could cause if it got out? But you're right. I **_**am **_**coming with you.-**

_What? How?_

_**-**_**I'm not exactly sure, myself, but...if what the researchers at FutureGadget have said is true, I think there's a way for me to keep looking out for you...-**

Robin felt a _sharp _sting in her hand – like the wrench she was holding was suddenly _flooded _with electricity, through her veins, out her arteries, flowing in a loop. Her grip flexed against the wrench in instinct, and she felt...

-_** connected -**_

Connected with her brother. She felt a surge of strength despite adversity, of love for her brother, of pain for his loss, of hope that she would carry on with him at her side.

She heard a presence speak to her.

_**I am thou.  
Thou art I.**__**  
**_

_**Thou hast acquired a new vow.  
It shall become thy beacon in the dark storm,  
lighting thy path toward freedom.  
**_

_**-**_**I'm with you, Robin.-**  
_You're with me, Elro._

Just as suddenly as everything had seemed to stop, the otherworld around Robin snapped back into motion, the creature still hurtling toward her. Her instinct guided her. The passage of time felt different than usual, as if she could see things she normally couldn't, react quicker than she normally could.

It was as if Elro spoke to her from over her shoulder, and she intuited what to do.

_**-NOW!-**_

She swung her wrench forth. The wrench _grew _to the size of a baseball bat_. _Robin twirled it in her hands, making it _spin. _She laced it in electricity from within, from her brother, a fusion of some inner strength she couldn't explain. The force sent the creature reeling back, swirling into a lumpy soup of white against the ground.

Gabe was still off in the distance, still managing the creatures, but what Robin had just done seemed to have caught all of their attention.

"Get outta here!" Gabe gruffly growled at her.

In awe of however she had just done this, Robin deftly caught the wrench, aided by her brother, like he guided it through the air back into her palm, and it shrunk back to its original size. She didn't know _how _he was helping her, but she knew that he was. She knew he was still there, still _with _her, somehow. She wasn't going to keep standing around questioning things.

She was escaping this place.

Trudging toward the portal, her heavy expression gawked briefly at Winston and Maho, who looked dumb-struck. She would have some explaining to do. Not that she herself understood how to explain any of this. Limping through the portal, Robin's stomach churned at the shift of environs, arriving back in the white-tiled Ivory Room, safe but far from sound. Alarms were blaring, red lights were flashing, and the entire room was locked closed by metal shutters. Ms. Vaswani was on her knees, holding her trembling form up with her single remaining arm, her once-bunned hair of black spilling over her shoulders in a frayed mess. Madelyn Binoche was sprawled on her back beside Vaswani, staring blankly up at the ceiling, her face drenched in sweat and the veins on her forehead uncomfortably visible.

In the space that Winston and Maho had been huddling within on their end, the barrier projector looked...distinctly different from the original side. Within the Ivory Room, there was a bizarre bubble of black, streaked with purple and pink lines, gray particles drifting throughout it. Robin was startled by the sight, but her body was spent. Her fingers at last released the grip on her wrench, and it collided with the floor loudly.

Robin's legs gave out. First sinking to her knees, then collapsing onto her side on the cold, sterile tiles of white, Robin succumbed to a fit of dizziness unlike any she'd known, her consciousness blacking out.

When she came to, her cheek cold against the ceramic floor, Robin's head was throbbing with pain. Her arms ached, her legs were sore, she could feel muscles twitching involuntarily across her back. The sound of Winston's voice had stirred her from her stupor. She couldn't make out what he was _saying, _it was a muffled mess against her clogged ear drums, but she could tell it was his voice. As his massive hands eased her up from the floor, her eardrums popped, and she was able to fully open her eyes.

"-all right?! Can you hear me?! Can...-?"

_Yea, I'm all right, I...-_

Robin nodded, coughing when she tried to speak. Blinking blearily beneath the blinding fluorescent lights, Robin lifted a weak arm to shade her vision, only to drop her limb when she realized how much her muscles were burning.

"Robin?"

She nodded again at Winston's concern, and he nudged her up into a sitting position. When her neck lulled, dropping her head backward, she was seized momentarily by fear, but relieved when her mentor's arm caught her.

"– missing! _I _don't know how else to describe it! They're..._gone, _all right? Satya's missing one, too!"

Dr. Hiyajo was angrily growling at her tablet through the noise of the metal quarantine shutters being lifted back up.

[ "Where's the other guy?" ] That lady on the tablet sounded clear again.

"He-..." Maho cast a wary glance at Robin. "I don't...-"

[ "The amalgams got him," ] grunted the blunt voice of that bizarre..._shadow _man who had helped them escape.

[ "The _what?_" ]  
"_Huh?_"

Both Hiyajo and Calomar were confused and irritated – likely at said confusion.

[ "He's not coming back," ] sighed 'Gabe.' [ "If it had just been the one, I would've had it under control. Barely made it out of there, myself. I'd say three out of four isn't the worst outcome." ]

Maho's eyes quivered with silent outrage.

"_You...-!_" she winced, but Winston had reached out his other arm to quell her rage.

"You have some explaining to do," Winston said grimly into the tablet. "But...all the same, you _did _help save their lives. So." Winston sucked in a deep breath through his nose, gazing down tiredly at Robin. She chewed her trembling lip as she stared up at him, her face contorted with sorrow mixed with some relief that, yea, at least not _all _of them were gone. "I can't believe I'm saying this to you two," Winston grumbled, "but...thank you."

[ "Thank O'Deorain," ] said Gabe. [ "She's the one who sent me over." ] Winston's face soured at that name. Who was _that? _Even in her current state, Robin's curiosity still consumed.

"O'Deorain?!" Maho snapped. "You're still working with that crazy _lunatic?!_"

"Maho," Winston growled, his tone and face uncharacteristically stern and irate. "Let it go for now."

Maho flashed him a defensive look, complimented by an audible puff of disbelief. Maho flicked her arm out toward Calomar, who was finally visible on the other side of the reinforced glass surveillance window.

Glaring up at Calomar across the glass, Satya finally spoke, her breathing ragged and her tone icy.

"Precisely _where _did you obtain the software you installed for this operation?"

[ "It _wasn't _the software," ] Calomar defended, [ "I had my team _triple check _it before-" ]  
"You _stole _it," Winston accused. "Didn't you?"

[ "Fucking '_Symmetra_' over here was pushing my boss into a corner, I did what I had to on short noti-" ]  
"_Where _did you steal it from?" Vaswani demanded to know. Gesturing at her stump of a shoulder, she insisted, "I think I have a _right _to know!"

[ "It was the _power _surge, guys," ] Calomar continued to deflect. [ "Impacted the whole _city, _it wasn't-" ]  
"Hey, answer the _question, _lady!" Maho joined in, fuming with impatience. "We've got people missing _limbs _over here! Someone's _dead! _We need to know what we're working with."

_He's gone. He just-...  
Dead? __**Is**__ he dead?  
I was-...I talked with him, but he-...  
I left him._

_I just left him back there.  
But he was-...  
Gone, he was gone, I-...  
If I had been more careful, or if I hadn't...-_

Robin struggled to sift the guilt and the doubt aside, at least for now, pushing disheveled bangs out of her face as she gripped Winston's arm, pulling herself a bit more upright. Her vision was blurring a bit, her eyelids getting harder and harder to keep open.

There was a heavy pause, with everyone staring across the testing chamber, through the glass, at the woman in the lab coat with the purple and black ponytail. A strange look to her, Calomar's voice responded at last.

[ "I...got it from Black Mesa." ]

The room erupted into dissatisfied, disbelieving bemoaning.

"_What?_"  
"Are you _serious?!_"  
"Black _Mesa?!_"  
"-honestly consider even _touching _that tech after the Lambda Inci-"  
"-complete lack of transparency with how have approached this-"  
"-the moral implications, but knowing _you, _I suppose I'm not-"

It went on like this for a few moments, the entire room devolving into aural chaos. Robin's slowly growing headache pulsed from the noise, and she could tell that poor Miss Binoche, still sprawled on the floor, was in pain, too.

Robin wanted to, she didn't know...maybe try and call for medical attention? For Madelyn? Or herself? Or hell, what about Satya's missing arm? _How _was she so angry and keeping it together when her _arm _was missing? Sheesh, that lady was something else – talk about determination.

Robin may have been surrounded by Doctors, but...-

_**-RRNNNNNK!-**_

"Aye, look!_**Ey!**_" huffed Calomar, quelling the protesting groans as she entered the room. "You wanted this to work on a tight deadline? _I did what I had to! _I've got _no_ regrets! It's not _my _fault you're all _rushing _to mess around with this-...this crazy _thing. _Clearly, we've got some fucking _hurdles _to jump here. We can keep bickering about old grudges, about what _bad things _we did to get here, or we can start comparing notes and get shit _done_."

Winston shook his head slightly, knowingly, his eyes rolling a bit. Yeesh, he really didn't like this FutureGadget lady, huh? Dr. Hiyajo didn't seem so keen on the company, either...

"Fine," Hiyajo conceded with a bitter reluctance, watching as some security guards and researchers cautiously entered the Ivory Room.

"I _will _be speaking with Makise about this," Vaswani seethed at Calomar.

"Oh, I'm sure you _will,_" Calomar acknowledged, not losing her cool as she glowered over the armless woman. Cocking her abdomen and waving her finger, she balked, "But what _you're _up to, here? I don't think you want to go too public with it, do you? And as for my boss? She tried to warn you. _I _tried to warn you. You wanted to push this? You wanted to play with fire? You got burned." Calomar shook her head slightly, arms crossed, and shrugged.

"You...-" Vaswani balked, her jaws clenched. Her entire body trembling, she hissed, "Of _all_ people...-"

"I _know _a thing or two about fucking up! _Yea, _all right?" Calomar said, flicking up a wrist. "So I _know _that when you make a mistake, you _learn _from it, instead of trying to pass the blame on-"  
"_OK_,we _get _it!" Hiyajo roared, "We're all to blame!"

"Some more than others," uttered Vaswani darkly, prodding her fingertips against her injury.

"_Yea_," Calomar reflected, parroting grimly, "Some more than other..."

"Let's...set differences aside for the moment," Winston asserted in a bid to calm tensions. "Olivia's right, we need to try and be objective about this." He gave Robin a sullen look as she tried to stand up, only to sit back down. "Looking at things that way, I mean-...At least...most of us made it out of there."

Robin sagged her head down in defeat, barely able to keep herself awake at this point.

That was what Elro was now.

A statistic?

A chalked up loss, a notation of failure in a report.

Robin was in so much pain, so tired, that she couldn't even emotionally process the loss.

**-It's fine, Sunflower. I'm not gone, all right? **_**You**_** can hear me, can't you?-**

_Elro._

_I'm-..._

Robin felt her breathing go unsteady as she heaved a sob, her eyes too bloodshot and dried up to shed tears. First Mom, then Dad...now her brother.**-Relax! It's not over, I haven't just **_**vanished.**_**-**_That is __**exactly **__what you've done...! You've literally vanished!_

**-Look. You're worn out, you need to rest.-**

_Have to.  
Get you out.  
Save...-_**-Get me out of **_**where? **_**I'm-...I'm with **_**you, **_**I don't even have a-...-**_With.  
me._

_.._

"Robin? Are you all right?" Winston sighed, jarring her from an impending slumber.

Forlorn, Robin shook her head, coughed on her own spit, swallowed..._Urgh.  
_Opening her mouth and blinking blearily up at Winston, she tried to pushed air through.

"Robin, you haven't _said _anything..."

_That's because I __**can't.**_

But all that came out was a whimpering wheeze.

"Can you _hear _me?"

Robin nodded, staring Winston straight in the eyes – well, it wasn't _quite _straight, given the way her eyelids were bobbing and her vision was blurring. Even nodding her head wasn't helping keep her awake.

"She isn't-...I think something's wrong with her. Have the medical personnel-...? Robin? n, a ..r..e y...o ...u...

_**-It's OK. **_**I'm still with you, Robin.-**  
_It's-...You're...-_

…

.

.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_Robin, Elro, Mina, and Madelyn originate from __**Iconoclasts **__(Joakim 'Konjak', Bifrost Entertainment).  
__Maho Hiyajo originates from __**Steins;Gate 0**__ (5pb, PQube).  
Gabriel Reyes ('Reaper') originates from __**Overwatch **__(Blizzard)._


	12. Episode 12

_**A/N: This episode is massive, and contains the main climactic sequence of Season 1. It took a lot of work and I'm sure there are cracks to be found, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. There are still two or maybe even three more episodes left in Season 1; however, I will be taking a break next week from posting.**_

_****\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\****_

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)

**Episode 12  
**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

'frisk'

/frisk/

verb:

1.) to search for something by running the hands rapidly over someone

2.) to leap, skip, or dance in a lively or playful way; frolic

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Lena had been stuck in the facility a lot longer than she would've preferred. Something serious had happened, for sure. There'd been a brownout during her checkup with Winston, little bit of tremor, too, but it sure seemed like whatever had happened was causing problems for Winston's workplace. Of course, no one was going to be explaining it to her. After her appointment with Winston, she'd been held in a break room with a few other strangers for an hour or so – fellow 'patients' and study subjects. Not a peep from security on what was up, and flashing her badge got her nowhere. Couldn't use her phone since she wasn't allowed to enter the place without it, so she'd wasted some time reading a tech magazine, only to start feeling self-conscious and weird. So she'd swapped, read some much older cooking mag, instead. Gave her a couple ideas, actually. Still made her feel a bit daft, though. Couldn't even cook a proper meal without some help...

Anyway, Lena knew she was gonna get it from Aloy, running late with no warning, no head's up. She'd tried banging her head around thinking up some kind of excuse. She had ultimately settled on 'bad traffic' since, well, the timing lined up enough. Sort of. Ehhh. Maybe she'd be better off leaning more toward honesty with something like 'friend emergency.' That was...technically true, right?

By the time Lena had been given her phone back and escorted out of the facility, she had a lot of missed calls. And texts. Oof. She didn't even know where to start – Aloy didn't seem _too _upset, but _whoa, _so many missed calls from the same number, and one she didn't know. Some voicemails, too, but Lena had to get going back to the station ASAP.

On her way to her bike, though, Lena's phone went off again – that number she didn't recognize.

Bugger, what was going on? She decided to take the call.

"Hiya. Lena Oxton speaking."

[ "Hello?" ]

"...Yea?" Lena was a bit put off. She had things to _do, _come on, now.

[ "Miss Oxton?" ]

"That's me, yea. Oi, who _is_ this?" Only they sounded real familiar...

[ "Toriel." ]

_Ah, yea! Miss Toriel! Aloy left her a card with our numbers. What's she want, then?_

"Oh! Toriel." Lena settled herself onto her bike, hoping to wrap this chat up quickly. _"Right, _I remember you, Luv." _Too informal! _"_Urh-...W-Wow,_ eh, wasn't expecting to hear from you, though, Ma'am. You, uh, you doin' all right, Miss?"

[ "Not-...No. _Mm_-mm. Not exactly." ]

_Uh-oh._

"You sound a bit off. Something the matter?"

[ "A-Actually, yes, I, um-..." ] She cleared her throat. [ "It's about Frisk. My child." ]

Lena felt her chest seize up a little. She could tell something proper awful had happened. You didn't call a cop and open with that sort of line if it wasn't serious.

"Someone take your kid, Luv?"

[ "_Ha, _I-...I actually _wonder _if-...N-No, it-...Frisk ran away. Violently. They, um...pulled a knife on their doctor, and...-" ]

"They _what?_"

[ "Knife. Took out a knife, ran off. Um, it's-..." ] _Blimey, she sounds real out of sorts. _[ "Frisk is a special child, they have...challenges they cope with, and I'm just-...I'm scared, Miss Oxton." ]

Lena was right stupefied for a tick. Had to take a sec to process this.

"No, I-...Completely understandable, Miss, we can, erh...file a missing person report. We'll have you come in, get someone on this right away, and-"  
[ "We don't have time for that." ]  
"...Um-?"  
[ "I think I know where they are." ]

"Beg pardon?"

[ "I think they might hurt someone. Please. _Please, _Miss Oxton, if I give you the address, can you just-...Can you please see if they're there?" ]

"I-...Are they still armed?"

[ "The knife. Probably? Not sure. _Miss, _please, you have to _go, _I'm scared of what could happen to them – or to someone else. They're not well. They're not feeling like themselves. They...-" ]

"'S all right, Luv," Lena assured, plugging her key into the ignition. "Sounds proper urgent. Have ya called Aloy yet?"

[ "I tried, she, um-...She said she was already predisposed, said I should call the station." ]

Aloy, turning down a plea for help from a mum in distress? Blimey, what was Aloy up to, then?

[ "I tried contacting your department, but they just-...They told me to come in, file a report, but-...I don't know what to do, this is _urgent, _but I don't think anyone would believe me if I tried to explain, and...-" ]

This sounded too time-sensitive for all of that paperwork bullocks.

"Understood. Say no more, Ma'am. Shoot me the address n' I'll get right on it, straight away."

[ "Thank you, Miss. Y-Yes, I'll-...City Hall. I think they went to City Hall." ]

"You what? City _Hall_?"

[ "Yes. I...have reason to believe they're there." ]

"Ain't some kinda posh do going on down there?"

[ "I-...I'm not sure? I don't-...I don't know, just-...Please...-" ]

"Right-right. I'm on it."

[ "_Thank _you, I don't...-" ]

"No worries, Luv." Lena started her engine. "I have this _under _control."

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\  
**

[ From: P.F. ]  
[ We can't get inside. RSVP only. Security's tight. ]

Aloy was fresh from trying to delicately explain her situation to Amari regarding the missing tape and the questionable activities she saw both in-store and on-video. With a pin having been put into the matter for the day, Aloy had been surprised to get texts from her P.I. regarding news about this 'Rachel' character attending some kind of...ball, or something? A charity concert...kind of thing? It was apparently to raise funds for victims of the recent bombings downtown. Aloy had heard about it in passing from Erend, but didn't know much, so wrapped up she was in her bubble as of late.

Max had expressed that she found this very odd, though – that Rachel would be attending such an event – and she was suspecting something fishy was going on. Having followed the mystery woman to the event, being held at City Hall, Max had been denied entry, apparently.

What really made Aloy's stomach do a loop, though, was that _Lena, _running late from her doctor's appointment, had just called her to explain that Miss Toriel had pestered _her, _too, about a missing child, and the tip she'd been given put the child at the _exact _same location that Max had followed her own lead to. Aloy suddenly felt stupid for having not heard the woman out. She was getting tunnel vision, here – but that's what partners were there for.

Regardless, Aloy wasn't sure what this all meant – Rachel and the child in the same place – but she knew in her gut that the two were connected, and the reason why was decidedly not good.

From her cramped desk, smooshed next to Lena's in one corner of the first floor, Aloy glanced around to make sure no one was paying her any heed. She decided to duck out of her paperwork for a second – this 'Falcon Ron' character was much less of a priority than whatever was going on with Toriel's kid and this 'Rachel' person. She swooped out the front door, pulled out her phone, and called up Maxine.

It took a few rings, but Max picked up, answering with an strangely loud tone.

[ **"...Nora?"** ]

"Yea. Hey." Aloy paused, hearing a lot of noise on the other end. Wind? "Where are you?"

[ "Uh-..._Shhh! _I _know!_" ] She was...grumbling at someone else? What the...-? [ "We, uh-...I'm keeping an eye on the place from a, um, a vantage point? And-..._Chloe! _Get the...-! What's _wrong _with you?!" ]

"Is this a bad time?" Aloy dryly asked, off-put by this. Max seemed to take her job seriously, so what the hell was going on? Chloe was Max's wife. What was _she _doing there?

[ "N-No, no, I've-...Erh, Chloe's helping me out – more eyes on the place." ]

"_...Ooooo_kay. Sure." Aloy was, in fact, _not _sure if this was a good idea. But then a spike of self-checking guilt struck her through the skull. She literally worked _with _her partner all the time. She couldn't really begrudge Max for doing the same, but she _did _question if Chloe had the proper kind of experience for investigatory work.

[ "What's going on?" ] Max asked through the windy noise. Aloy surmised that they must've been perched up on a roof. Kind of a tricky prospect in downtown Arcadia, so Aloy couldn't help but wonder how Max had managed it. But given the circumstances, she wasn't going to ask.

"Oh, I just-...Lena called. Remember that kid? The one we were tracking a couple weeks back?"

[ "Toriel's, right? Uhhhh-" ] Finger snapping. [ "...Frisk! That's the name. Yea." ]

"Right. Well...Apparently, they went missing this afternoon. And Toriel got a tip that they'd be showing up – guess where?"

[ "City Hall," ] Max deduced.

"Exactly. And I can't help but suspect that the kid is connected to this Rachel person."

[ "Wait..._What? _Connected to _Rachel_? That _child?_" ]  
[ "Huh? Whoa-whoa, hold up, _who's _connected to Rachel? What child?" ] - Max's wife was babbling the background.

Max, evidently ignoring her wife, wondered, [ "You think this is connected to the missing people you're after?" ]

"I mean, I'm not ruling anything out. You have Lena's number?"

[ "I, uh-...I should, I _think _I do. Haven't _used _it yet, but...-" ]

"I'll text it to you, just in case. Listen, I-...I couldn't convince Amari to divert anyone else to the gala, she says they've already got a squad on site for security, but Lena's on her way. I'm planning on sneaking off there, myself. I've just got-..." Aloy trailed off.

[ "A bad feeling," ] Max sighed. [ "Yea. Yea, me, too, Nora." ]

"If anything comes up, let us both know," advised Aloy. "I'll keep you posted when I arrive on scene."

[ "Understood," ] said Max.

Aloy concluded, [ "Keep your eyes peeled in the meantime." ]

"I'm on it."

Max ended the call, tucking her phone back to its proper place inside the inner lining chest pocket of her coat. It was flapping around a bit in all this wind, but she had to admit it made her feel kind of like...-

"_Bad-ass, _Max. You're so fuckin' bad-ass," Chloe was chuckling, just gawking with an awed grin at her wife. Max had on her fedora and trench-coat, the jacket's tails flapping a bit in the wind. Slapping one fist into the opposing palm, Chloe seethed pridefully, "Helpin' the cops, just like old times, enh? We're gonna put that bitch in her place."

"We don't _know _what she's up to," Max reminded. "Or _why. _Believe me, I have my suspicions, but-"  
"Act on evidence, not on assumptions, _blabla_," Chloe sighed, shaking her head as Max took the binoculars back from her.

Max knew it was difficult for her wife to look at this objectively, especially given the history Chloe and Rachel had shared, but Max herself couldn't afford to be anything _but _objective with all of this – not anymore.

The duo were perched upon the roof of City Hall, which housed a large, reinforced glass dome that radiated a golden glow from the marble-laden, well-lit hall within. Cautiously hovering around the exterior of the dome with binoculars gave them a nice view of the party, and Rachel Amber was indeed within their sights, though there was no sign of this strange child.

Watching Chloe excitedly survey the hall with the binoculars, Max wondered, "Isn't Brigitte wondering where you are by now?"

Without averting her gaze, Chloe dismissed, "Nahhh, told her something serious came up with you and it couldn't wait, so I got the night off."

Max knew that having Chloe nearby was...perhaps crucial to her intentions with this stakeout – they wouldn't have been able to reach the roof in the first place without coordinated efforts getting past the guards, after all. And if things went south, the way Max feared they might, then Chloe's presence might better secure mutual safety, even if the short term would seem otherwise.

Still. Max couldn't help having doubts.

Studying the hall's column-endowed staircase entrance as a new guest entered (nope, just some old suit), Max posed, "And she's...just, what, OK with that? With you bailing on work?"

"Thought you said this was _important._"

"It _is, _I-...Sorry, Chloe, I'm just a little nervous."

"About _what? _This is Rachel-fucking-Amber. She's-...She doesn't get her _hands _dirty, what's the worse she could do? Besides, we're all the way the hell up _here_."

Max's stomach was churning_, _and her fingers were beginning to shake a little. _Something _bad was going to happen. She had too much experience with this shit by now, it was like her body had developed a sixth sense. She'd _thought _putting distance between them by hiding out on the roof would make her feel safer, but every instinct in her body was telling her otherwise.

"I don't know," she sighed, trying to convey recent sightings to Chloe. "It's been a _while _since you've seen Rachel. She's probably pretty different than you remember – and I'm sure that goes both ways." She could hear Chloe humming and hawing dubiously as she surveyed what Rachel was up to – hors d'oeuvres, from the look of it. Their view into the hall was rather extensive, but they still couldn't see much beyond the expansive main lobby. There were all kinds of nooks and crannies down the halls, however, which made Max nervous, but they seemed all but covered by the security detail the APD had sent.

"You said she broke a beer bottle at some restaurant?" Chloe recalled, to which Max nodded, still gazing through binoculars. Huffing a little, Chloe followed up, "Yea, _that _doesn't surprise me. She's got _anger _issues, dude, like I told you. Sounds like _that _hasn't changed. But it's not like she _plans _things out, Max. She never has, and trust me, she's not the type where she ever _will._"

Shifting her position to get a little more comfortable, Max noted, "Chloe, that's the exact kind of person who's more _dangerous, _if you ask me..."

"Fair enough," Chloe conceded a tired grunt. "But you can't expect me to _not _take this personally when...-"

Chloe's phone had gone off.

_"Ahhhh, _gimme a sec," Chloe grumbled, passing off the binoculars to Max as she pulled out her phone.

"_Chloe._" Max did not approve. They needed to take this seriously.

"Nah, if I don't take it, they'll just keep botherin' me all night. Hold up." Chloe lifted a finger with one hand, taking the call with another. "Yea, Borowski? Hey...Y-Yea, no, sorry, I forgot. Got caught up in something with Max, she needs my help on an assignment..._I know, _right? We're onnnn the case, dude, whole stake-out n' everything...What? _No, _I didn't bring-...It's a stake-out, not-...OK, fair, but the too-long-didn't-read is...I can't make it."

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"Aw, dag, furreal?" Mae sounded bummed with whatever what going on in their phone call. Sounded like Chloe must've shot down the invite for hanging out. That meant they were gonna be rolling up on Mae's dealer _directly, _which...was actually kinda scary when Alex thought about it. She barely _knew _this guy, and he sounded pretty dangerous. Apparently he'd killed someone at some point? Chloe had said she'd been there, but...Alex wasn't sure if Chloe was the 'reliable narrator' type...

Regardless. Their dealer sounded like a dangerous guy.

Angus was busy with some sudden overtime shift they'd sprung on him, and Gregg had offered a favor to their friend Beatrice – whom Alex _also _barely knew. So. Here Alex was, walking down from the subway station to some shady looking trailer on the edge of the waterfront, alone with Mae.

Welp. Alex _had _insisted to herself to start taking her friends up on their offers to socialize. At least this wasn't as shady as that stupid 'party' she'd tried going to to break ice with Jonas back when the two had first met. Not only had they broken the law that night, it...hadn't even been fun. Just a boring, miserable night out in the cold, stranded on a stupid island with the only friend from her childhood who still put up with her, a complete stranger, fucking _Clarissa, _her brother's ex, and her new step-brother, Jonas.

Suffice it to say that Alex hadn't enjoyed herself much that night.

At least here, she got along well enough with Mae, and, like...could still go back home to her _bed _when all was said and done.

"Uh-uh...Uh-huh." Mae stuffed their hand in their hoodie pocket as they nodded and sighed, walking beside Alex down the worn, dirt road. "Well, _shit, _Chlo-Bo, I even hauled _Alex's _ass out here, and you _know _how difficult that is. I mean, will Frank even let us hang _out_if you're not...-?" Alex tuned out Mae's call for a moment, called by the ground rumbling gently from the impact of so many vehicles whizzing in and out of the city behind them, up on the highway ramps. The air smelled...weird. Maybe it was the scent of the bay water at sundown, but Alex's stomach felt uneasy.

This _smell _brought her right to that horrifying moment – collection of moments, bombardment of terrible moments – when she'd watched Michael drown, in those very waters out beyond the edge of land. It felt so _fresh _in her brain somehow, like she'd _just _been there in a dream she couldn't remember, just the other day.

And then everything felt..._green?_

Her spine shivered up, then down, the hairs on her arms prickling upward.

She hated this illogical, spontaneous sensation, and yet part of her savored it just for being something different.

She was relieved to give her overactive mind something else to do when Mae hung up their call.

"_Welp,_" said Mae with a flat expression, tight-lipped. "Chloe's apparently..._busy?_" They shrugged with disbelief, exchanging a confused look with Alex. "The hell does _that _ever happen? I mean, like, outside of _work, _but Chloe's not _at _work right now. Apparently she's helping Max with something, _I _dunno."

"Couldn't convince them to drop that and come over, huh?" Alex tossed out a (useless) retroactive recommendation.

"Nahhh," Mae dribbled before sighing through fluttered lips. "Even told 'em _you _were comin', but Chloe was all like, '_mehhh this is super important n' shit,_' or whatever. So." Shrugging again, Mae let the subject rest. Not surprising that knowing Alex was there wouldn't sway any outcome either way. Alex wasn't capable of such a thing.

The pair walked in silence under moonlight – man, it was barely even six o' clock, fucking winter...At least the trailer they sought was barely visible in the distance.

Partway there, however, Alex's phone went off.

[ Call from... ]  
[ Jonas ]

"_Urgh._" Alex frowned at her phone, sending the incoming call straight to voicemail. She didn't have the patience for her step-brother right then. The entire point of this evening was to relax. Jonas probably didn't even know the meaning of the word.

"You OK?" Mae prodded.

"_Yea,_" Alex huffed, shaking her head, scrolling aimlessly through notifications. "Just _Jonas, _probably wanting to give me the same old shit."

"_Blah, _ignore the idiot."

"Oh, I _will._"

"Tonight is a night of pleasure and joy," Mae insisted.

"But not..._'Joy' _joy," said Alex, referring to the drug.

"_Fff, _no-no, nah, just some weed, maybe we'll hit a bar or two if you're feelin' up to it..." Mae gave Alex an encouraging but somewhat awkward pat on the back. The two of them didn't engage in much physical contact, and Alex wasn't...really sure if it was something she preferred or not. But clearly Mae was weirdly reading the room well – literally, in that they shared a _room, _and Mae was _reading _how lonely Alex had been feeling. It was why they'd invited her in the first place, sort of a spontaneous thing.

Even if this wasn't her preferred pass-time, even if this wasn't someone she felt the most compatible connection with, Mae was what Alex currently _had_, so...she was going to appreciate it.

"Y-Yea, I mean, urh...-" Alex shrugged, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets. "Whuh-...Whatever you're up for, I'm down for. Er-...? Also..._up. _for. I mean."

Mae shot Alex a smirk with a tilted brow in acknowledgment, then administered a knuckle to Alex's arm.

As the duo drew closer to the appointed spot Mae's dealer Frank hung out at, they could hear an eerie strumming of guitar radiating from Frank's spot, drowned out a bit by the ocean and the highway beyond, like a campfire in the rain. Melancholic strums echoed, unaccompanied by melody or lyric. It set a certain tone, for sure, as Alex and Mae approached. Not exactly the way to start a night of partying, though...

It turned out, the guitar was being played not by Frank, as Alex had assumed, but instead it was...-?

Whoa, whoa, who was this butch as fuck guitarist in the hunter's outfit over here? Just sitting in a lawn chair, plucking away at her guitar by the campfire, while Frank petted his dog. When the guitarist noticed them, they got all flustered, but continued playing. Then their eyes met Alex's. _Intense._ Alex wasn't sure if she was turned on or weirded out. This must've been 'Ellie,' then. A real tough chick, from the sound of it, and _oof, _did Alex believe it just after one look. She'd heard bits and pieces about Ellie from Mae, Gregg, and Chloe, but had never met the lady. She had a scar through her eyebrow, and her eyes felt like dirty knives with the way she glared. Supposedly, she was about Max and Chloe's age, but _oof, _in that single look she'd given Alex, it was like she was _older _in a way. Lived through some shit.

Ellie concluded her music with a light, high note, trailing the music off with some errant string plucks before setting the instrument down at her side.

"Y-You can keep playing," Alex blurted out, trying to stop herself from staring. _Ffffuck, _what was her _problem lately? _She needed to get laid, maybe? People like Sandra and Liv weren't _helping _with this matter, either, come to think...

"_-RARRF!- RRARRF-RARF-!_"

"The _fuck_'re you two doin' 'ere?" barked Frank over his dog's literal barking. "_Calm _down, boy," Frank mumbled, brusquely rubbing the old dog's head to quell its lazily expressed caution. Guzzling a slurp of his tall can of beer, Frank popped up his chin at them. "Whurr the hell's Chloe? Thought she was s'ppos'd to be...babysittin' yoo two."

"Frank," said Ellie testily, gesturing out her wrist and lowering it toward him. "They're fine, man, Mae's cool."

"You c'mere for a _freebie_?" Frank groaned, running a palm down his face. "'Cuz if Chloe offered you somethin' n' she ain't _here, _swear to fuggin' hylia...-" He was waggling a threatening if intoxicated finger around, shaking his head.

"We came to buy some shiz," Mae said, pulling out a stack of bills they _probably _shouldn't have been waving around. "Payday, son."

"Son? I'm old'nuff to be yer _dad_," Frank groaned, his palm still over his face, as if he'd gotten to sleepy to remove it after the previous gesture.

"Sell me some _weed, _Uncle Frankie," Mae jeered, slapping their cash against their opposing hand and sticking out their tongue.

"_Rrrrrgh_," was all Frank had to say. His musty pupper licked at Frank's face-covering hand and nudged it off with its nose before resting his chin against Frank's stomach. Aw. What a good old boy.

"_Ffsss,_" Ellie hissed out an amused sound as she pushed herself up out of her chair. "Don't mind _that _asshole, he's just had a rough week. His ex is back in town, been kicking up a hornet's nest."

"Sounds fun," Alex said stupidly, trying to make herself get noticed at all like literally any way notice her please aaaaaand hating her selfish idiocy all the while. She couldn't get some relaxant substance in her system _fast enough_. The Joy she'd been taking had been helping, but the weird part was that Joy, despite its name, was supposed to make you feel _nothing. _Make you feel numb. Strangely, it did not do that for Alex. It didn't exactly make her feel _joyful, _but it made her feel more than she did otherwise? Is how she'd describe it?

A-Anyway, she had to stop thinking about that, she was here to unwind, have fun, ignore everything else in her life for a single night.

Gently setting her guitar down on the gravel beneath her, Ellie walked up to them, gave Mae a fist bump, and paused at Alex, nodding simply.

"You this 'Alex' chick Mae rooms with?" Ellie asked.

"Ah, y-yea, I...-" Alex nodded, sniffed, and rocked on her toes a little, arms crossed over her chest. "You're Ellie, right?"

"Thaaaat's me," Ellie slowly and tiredly confirmed. "If you're here for a chill time, you've picked a good night. We've got no business goin' on, but...-" She nodded her head off toward Frank's rusty RV. "I mean, you _look_ ready to have a good time," Ellie pointed out, bobbing her chin up as she glanced at the cash in Mae's hand. Mae nodded in confirmation. "Well, not gonna turn down a sale on a week like this," Ellie sighed, scratching at her greasy head. Rubbing at her nose, she sniffed and offered, "I can set ya up, since he's-...Well." She shrugged a shoulder at Frank, who was cradling his can of beer at his side as he drifted off to sleep. His dog circled at his feet, then curling up on the ground to start dozing off, as well.

As Mae and Ellie worked out financing by the RV's entrance, Alex stood and stared at the bearded man in his lawn chair. So much for 'dangerous,' huh? Hard to believe _this _grumpy coot could hurt anybody.

The ocean wasn't far behind old Frank. It was actually a beautiful sight. But off in the distance, was that...-? Was there someone...-?

_Michael?_

Sitting on a dock down a stretch, why did that look like Mike?

Nope. _Nope. __**Nope.**_  
That was impossible.

Alex rubbed at her tired eyes. No one there. Yea. Just seeing things. Yup. Dark, far away, tired, eyes playing tricks.

It was...a nice view, though. Celeste Mountain, cradling the city against the ocean, was reflecting the moonlight nicely. Alex could see the opposite side of Arcadia's night life across the bay, its visage mirrored in the water in the distance. Something about the sight gave her d_éjà vu, sending a strange tingle up her thighs as she thought about...Sandra. For some reason._

_Oh. Well, of _

__course ___she thought of Sandra. This was the kind of moment to take a picture. She was inspired._

Alex took a photo with her phone – of the ocean, that was, with the campfire embers in the foreground. Her phone's small camera couldn't quite do the lighting justice, but it was better than nothing. She picked a filter she found eerie, surprised she even got reception out here – barely – and came up with a caption.

[ Like dark glass moving ]  
[ Sliced in half by fractal white ]  
[ Below as above ]

[ #haiku #ParadoxicalPix ]

She uploaded it to her social media, secretly hoping Sandra would notice it and comment on her attempt at poetry. She knew Sandra followed her 'Paradoxical Pix' account, and had left a comment on every single post thus far – even the ones prior to them meeting. Surely, adding a poem to one would pique Sandra's interest, right? The prospect made Alex a little giddy in an irrational way.

Ellie had grabbed a couple of grody-looking plastic chairs – the kinds you usually put out by swimming pools – and set them on the opposite side of the fire she and Frank were sitting around.

"Oh, thanks, I'll...-" Alex was _not _sitting in one of those things. "Ya know, I'm...actually good?" She got cozy, cross-legged in the cold gravel. Next to the fire, she'd warm up quick enough. She preferred sitting like this, anyway.

Ellie shrugged, "Each their own," and got back to her own camping chair – with a cup holder built into the arm, currently holding a bottle of Cinderbrick Stout. So Ellie was a Cinderbrick kinda gal, huh? OK, OK...Noted.

Mae sat down in the chair Alex had almost sat in, a bong in hand.

"Each their own," Mae parroted, lighting up the bong and letting smoke fill the chamber. She took a hit, coughing with delight, and passed it on to Alex.

"Each their own," Alex concluded, watching the round, glass container slowly fill with smoke, swirling around on itself, taking up more and more space, _cramming _its form into an increasingly insufficient container. Just as she felt impatient eyes on her, Alex held the tube up to her lips and took in a nice, strong inhalation.

Lungs burning.  
Coughing. Choking.  
Too much inside. Too much.  
Couldn't hold it.  
Couldn't breathe...-!

**\- **_**green -**_

-...until she could again.

Wheezing, Alex's vision blurred a little as she leaned over, passing the bong back to a chuckling Mae. Her chest stung from the smoke she'd just inhaled. It was simultaneously painful but invigorating and relaxing, all at the same time. Alex took a moment to soak in the atmosphere around her as Mae lazed back into their chair, bong in their lap.

Ellie began to strum at her guitar again, and Alex couldn't help but admire the worn, rowdy-rough look to the woman's hands, her freckled face, the scar in her eyebrow. Her hands seemed to be shaking a little as she tried to play her instrument. Hm, maybe she was a little cold? It _was _winter, even if the temperature had eased up a bit recently. The fire felt nice, but the scent of ocean air was, like the marijuana smoke, a painful thing to breathe in, despite relaxing her, as well.

"_Rrgh, fuckin'_...-"

Ellie had stopped playing suddenly, grumbling to herself.

"Huh?" Alex prodded, trying to show concern.

Ellie shook her head at Alex, dismissing her curiosity. Ellie then flicked wrist out, re-positioned herself, and went back to playing her guitar. Mae was staring up at the stars, their eyes glazed over, lips open a little. At least they looked relaxed. Now Alex had to get there.

Alex happily let herself get lost in the reverberating sounds.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"Mr. Dreemur, the Council's not simply going to sit back and-"  
"Asgore," the Mayor firmly said, continuing to walk down the hall, not heeding her.  
"Mr. _Asgore,_" Isabelle sighed, attempting to keep up with her short legs.

Isabelle wondered if perhaps she hadn't come dressed..._formally _enough for this soiree. Flat turquoise shoes, navy blue slacks (a bit too big on her, and her belt was uncomfortable), her trusty orange winter jacket over a white blouse...Hm, her lucky bell ribbon hair tie didn't set the tone too well, so she'd left her favorite hair tie back at the office, but her hair was _not _conditioned to be in anything but a rowdy ponytail at the moment. She had helped with formal events before, but it always felt a bit odd when they were _this _formal. She was a government worker, not a member of high society.

Clearing her throat and speeding her heel-tipped steps to catch up with the Mayor, Isabelle tried again, swiping at her phone as she multi-tasked – reviewing the evening's schedule while also trying to make her concerns known.

"The Council is _not _going to just sit and watch Zaibatsu continue meddling with the Mountain's infrastructure, especially with the mines in such a state of disrepair. Further tunneling into Celeste could present serious safety hazards! Now, I know you have ties to Misters Ogundimu and Sandalwood, I'm sure they're...well-meaning gentlemen, but personal biases should _not _impact how procedure is followed. I've gone _over _the documentations, and it's _not _looking like this 'Aperture' facility is a good idea; not after what FutureGadget has _already _implemented. Those two companies have been at each other's throats for _years, _and I just...don't see why they'd suddenly...-" She trailed off, fluttering her lips in a sigh.

Mr. Asgore wasn't even _listening _to her. He had paused at the edge of the hall, just before it opened up into the main lobby of City Hall, leaning his cane in front of him with both palms pressed together at its top. At the top of the cane rested a brass sculpture in the shape of a goat's head, its weathered metal horns curling backward. He was rubbing his thumb against one of the horns methodically, his posture tense. Clearly, something else was on his mind.

"Um...Sir?" Isabelle prodded, letting her phone hang to her side.

"Izzy," Asgore said tiredly, using a nickname she did not prefer coming from him.

"Miss Shizue," Isabelle corrected, affirming her surname. If he wanted to get all bothered over names and titles this evening, why, she'd do it right back. He was her boss. Not her friend. He'd been ensuring that clarification quite a lot recently. Maybe he was being petty over her spending time with his ex-wife? Isabelle didn't know, but she knew they both still had a duty to serve to the people of Arcadia, and with everything going on that year, getting caught up in personal squabbling helped no one.

"Yes." Asgore stroked his beard, then took off his spectacles. "Yes, Miss _Shizue_," he murmured, cleaning his eye-wear on a cloth from his breast pocket. "This is a _gala, _is it not?"

"Wh...-?" Isabelle was suddenly struck with a wrecking ball of self-awareness.

"Can we please reserve shop-talk for _working _hours?"

"This-...This is a public event, Sir. We are hosting a _charity _event, this isn't just a _party, _we're not _celebrating. _This is about the deaths of bombing victims, this is-"  
"_Quite _right, yes. Yes, yes, of course. We are not celebrating tragedy."

Adjusting his bowler hat, Asgore breathed out a raspy huff, shaking his head.

The irony of his statement struck a nerve, as Isabelle was forced to acknowledge, at least to herself, what a cheery, bright atmosphere lay sprawled before them.

Asgore then pressed, "Since we're _not _celebrating, should that mean we instead disrespect them by spending time dedicated to their memory attempting to unravel some conspiracy you're manufacturing?"

Isabelle's heart skipped at the glare in Asgore's eye. He _never_ talked to her like this! It was like some..._shadow _he was casting that she'd not seen before was staring her down.

Asgore clinched the conversation with, "Are you so desperate to feel _useful _right now that you're actively _looking _for problems to solve that don't _exist?_"

"I...-"

Isabelle was dumb-struck. What had gotten _into _him? Sure, he was acting more stiff and focused than usual – this was a whole public appearance for him and all, she understood that. He was always good at presenting well when he needed to, but it was all a facade, a mask she helped him wear. Asgore Dreemur was a bit of an oaf, truth be told.

Somehow, this – the impatient irritation in his eyes, the exhausted wrinkles on his forehead, the poison-laced edge to his voice – this somehow didn't feel like a mask so much as defensive lashing out.

Being confronted with this was immediately causing Isabelle's eyes to water up. Fear, anxiety, shock? Take your pick. It was spooky, was what it was! She had to get out of there for a second.

She'd, um, she'd go to the restroom, check in on Toriel. That poor woman's child had gone missing, maybe Isabelle could assuage her distraught acquaintance. Friend? _Were_ they friends? Isabelle liked to think so, but-...Hm. If she _wasn't _friends with Mr. Asgore, then...-

Mr. Asgore was beckoning someone in the distance.

"You can go," Asgore commanded warily, his brows settling low. With his gaunt face pointed out toward the public, his narrowed eyes slid sideways at her, sending a gut-churning sensation through her.

"R-Right, Sir, apologies," Isabelle spat with a hasty bow. Avoiding that callous look, she fumbled toward an apology. "I wasn't-...I didn't mean to-..."

"It's fine, it's _fine, _just...-" The old man sighed raggedly, picking up his hat briefly to slick his white hair back. Setting his hat back on his skull, he advised, "Get a hold of yourself. And please stop pestering me with these 'concerns' of yours unless there are forms to sign."

Akande Ogundumi was approaching – the Chief Financial Officer of Zaibatsu. He was dressed in his golden sunglasses, his broad shoulders were once again garbed in a pristine white suit, just like the previous time she'd seen him. His stout features simultaneously conveyed confidence and impatience no matter what expression they formed. His bald head was practically shining in the golden light of the main hall as he drew close.

"There you are, friend," his deep voice called out to the Mayor as he approached, a woman latched to one of his intimidating arms. She looked pleased enough to be there with him but disinterested in the proceedings around them. "I was starting to _wonder _if you'd show your face."

"Aha, yes, yes..." Mr. Asgore nodded, scratching his nose a bit. "I've been preoccupied with matters of the state this evening." A heavy pause hung over the lot of them as the music in the background simmered down. Isabelle tried to scan Mr. Ogundimu's face, but he was ignoring her. After an awkward cough, Asgore said, "Miss Shizue, aren't you meant to be assisting with the hors d'oeuvres?"

Isabelle felt her jaws tighten against one another, but she kept her lips closed and her eyes stern. She could not see Mr. Ogundimu's eyes upon her, but she _could _see the skeptical way his brow lifted in her direction.

She firmly replied, "Ah, shortly, yes, I'm going to be assisting with that." Her eyes sheepishly darting to the floor when she realized everyone was looking, she mumbled out, "I'll...go prepare for the task." She bowed stiffly. "Mr. Asgore. _Sir._"

Every muscle in her body trembling with tension, Isabelle scampered away, like a dog with her tail between her legs. The belting, deep laughter of Mr. Ogundimu from behind rattled her as her legs wobbled to get away. Isabelle was able to hide herself in the first floor restroom. She didn't actually need the facilities at that moment, but she _did _desire some privacy – some time to distance herself from the strange tension she had just experienced. Asgore had been acting more and more irritable as of late, especially since that bizarre meeting with Ms. Vaswani and Ogundimu. That didn't mean he should take that stress out on _her. _She was doing her best! She was trying to think ahead! Back when Arcadia had been a mining town, it was a lack of planning, a lack of following procedure, which had led to so many problems...Thankfully, the industrial tide had turned, and the city had been reborn as a technological hub thanks to tech and research companies planting their roots down.

Regardless, Isabelle couldn't shake the feeling that the town was heading down a similar path of near-sighted foolhardiness, only there wouldn't be a lucky safety net this time.

Maybe the Mayor wanted to ignore everything for months on end, pretend this city didn't exist when he was too bothered to concern himself. But Isabelle was always there, always diligent, always working, come dark realm or high water, for the good of the city, and what thanks did she get?

She got to serve hors d'oeuvres.

Sniffling and coughing a bit as she cleared her throat and steadied her breathing, Isabelle blinked rapidly to loose any tears out, then dried her damp eyes with her wrist, dialing up a contact on her phone. She plopped herself down on the couch perpendicular to the restrooms entrance.

[ Calling... ]  
[ Toriel ]

[ "Yes? Isabelle?" ]

"Mm...-_Hrrm-hrm-,_" Isabelle cleared her throat. "T-Toriel, um...How are you holding up?"

[ "Not at _all _well, I'm afraid. The doctors who _lost _my child are incompetent and the police don't at all seem to be taking me seriously. Do you have any news?" ]

"I, um-...I was more...hoping to check with you, in case anything had developed, and so...-" Her voice withered as she felt that sagging sense of uselessness kicking in.

[ "No sign of them? None at _all_?" ]

"Sorry," she replied to Toriel, seated on a small couch against the bathroom wall. "I'm sorry," she repeated, softer this time. Eyes closed, head clasped in one palm, she took in a slow breath before carrying on. "I, um-...I _have _checked with the officer in charge of security tonight. Gave them a head's up, just in case, along with my number. So, I mean...if Frisk _does _show up, I should know pretty quickly. And then, of course, _you_...will _also _know...pretty quickly."

[ "...Mm." ]

Drumming her fingers in her lap with her eyes still closed, all Isabelle could picture was that unsettling _glint _in the Mayor's eyes. Toriel's low-key warnings about her ex-husband were reverberating through Isabelle's skull. Was he truly engaging in...nefarious dealings in the shadows? _Urf, _such a dramatic way of phrasing it! Of _course _he wasn't. Asgore Dreemur, a mastermind? Not in the _slightest. _That bumbling man couldn't even keep his _desk _organized. He couldn't even drink a cup of coffee without spilling it on something. If anything, others were manipulating _him_, and he was bending beneath their will. That Vaswani – her eyes had pierced through Isabelle like swords when she'd kicked Isabelle out of their suspiciously short meeting. She'd _grabbed _Isabelle on the shoulder – and it had hurt a bit!

And the words Ms. Vaswani had said – and the _way _she had said them:  
_'Know your __**place.**__'_  
A shudder shot up Isabelle's back as she recalled the image, which had stuck with her ever since. And _now, _great, lovely, she had a similar moment from Mr. Asgore etched into her memory, too! His grip was even more scary...

Isabelle felt powerless about the whole thing. It was incredibly discouraging.  
After so many years of service, how could Asgore be suddenly folding under some pressure?

A stranger who had already been using the restroom when Isabelle had entered had flushed a toilet, jarring Isabelle from her worries.

[ "-very, well, _difficult, _as of late." ] Oh, dear. Isabelle had...lost track of the conversation a little. She _was _fairly tired from having helped organize this event. She was even pulling a shift, technically – unpaid, of course – helping with catering. This was her break. And she was spending it trying to convince Asgore to wake up, and trying to help Toriel feel better. [ "I mean, you likely recall their...outburst the other day." ]

"At the, erm, at The Roost?"  
_Right, Frisk had a bit of a tantrum at the coffee shop when I was with them..._

[ "Mm, yes. I'm so sorry about that, I'm just glad that was the worst you saw of it..." ]

"Oh, yes, that was...-" Isabelle blanked on a word to use, watching the stranger in the restroom use the sink. "..._Yesss. _Very, um, worrying?"

[ "Exactly..." ]

_Whew._

"What _happened, _Toriel? I mean, for them to run _away _on you like that. I can't _imagine _you'd have given them reason to leave..." As the bathroom stranger left, a stunning woman in a form-fitting, wide-skirted dress of bright red entered. From her lower angle on the couch, Isabelle couldn't help but notice the woman's lower right leg had a black dragon tattoo inked into it. Oh, wow, and her golden hair was _amazing. _She looked like a _model _or something. Isabelle was struck with a tinge of envy. If only Isabelle looked like _that, _no doubt she'd be having an easier time getting all of these politics to work in her favor...as loathe as she was to consider it.

The beautiful woman, reading her phone, headed for one of the stalls without incident, as did Isabelle with her chat.

"I-I mean, you're so sweet," Isabelle continued her train of thought. "_Too _sweet. Why would they leave you? M-Maybe they felt...smothered, or...-?"  
[ "I..._think _it may be a bit more complicated than that." ]

"Oh." Isabelle rummaged through her coat pockets, pulling out a half-emptied pack of Pop Star chewing gum. Sliding a single round piece of gum out, she wondered, "How so?" Staring at the adorable smile printed on the gumball, Isabelle reflected on how Toriel seemed far too nice to deserve this kind of drama, especially after what she'd been through with her two previous children.

[ "To be honest with you, Isabelle, I'd much rather not discuss it at the moment." ]

Chucking the soft, hollow gumball into her mouth, Isabelle hummed her acknowledgment.

Speaking through one cheek, she replied, "I understand. Is there anything else I can do to help? I...should get back to the party in a moment, but if you need...-"

[ "It's all right. I...apologize for my mood, everything is just...-" ]

"O-Oh, no need to apologize, it's _really _understandable. I'll...keep my eyes and ears peeled, and let you know if anything turns up. Frisk will turn up soon, I'm sure of it!"

[ "Well, I truly appreciate your support. Really." ]

"Happy to help! _Um-! _B-But _not _happy that this is happening..."

[ "Mm. I suppose I'll let you get back to your evening..." ]

"I'll call you again later tonight, either way."

[ "Certainly. Thank you, Isabelle." ]

"You're welcome."

From her stall, the golden-haired woman on the toilet was tapping the toe of her foot with some impatience against the bathroom floor.

Staring down at her phone, she could see her 'partner' had sent another message.

[ What's TAKING SO LONG? ]-  
[ Do you have eyes on the target or not? ]-

By the Trinity, this guy was a real piece of work. She hated collaborating with him, but didn't have a choice. In the end, though, his particular brand of assistance was, admittedly, invaluable, given her current state of affairs.

[ We aren't going to get another opportunity like this! ]-

He was extremely persistent _and _impatient, though. Probably used to always getting his way, she figured.

[ Are you THERE Amber? ]-

Rachel sighed as quietly as she could given how much frustration was building within her.

As she waited for this dorky woman she'd passed by to leave the bathroom, she texted a reply.  
-[ The target is filling up on food. ]  
-[ I'm trying to retrieve our client's cache. ]

She double checked the instructions she'd been sent regarding this:

[ Ground floor; East-side restroom ]-  
[ Stall furthest from the entrance ]-  
[ Second tile from the wall. ]-

Glancing up, she confirmed that, indeed, the ceiling here was constructed from worn-out acoustic tiles laid on a T-bar grid. In other words, her backup items would be found right above her.

The sink ran for a moment as Rachel contemplated her plan of attack. The target was unlikely to go far – by Rachel's estimation, they had yet to make a donation on behalf of their organization. So they were still obligated to stick around. Rachel still had time.

The paper towel dispenser was used – a single sheet – and a couple moments later, the door swung open.

Rachel popped off her heels, letting them fall to the tiled floor, and cautiously climbed on top of the porcelain lid to the toilet she'd been perched upon. Peering over the edge of the stall's walls, she could confirm the couch was now empty – and the rest of the stalls were emptied, as well.

She was clear for a moment – and a moment was all she would need.

Standing atop the toilet, she reached her hands up, gently nudging the tile closet to the wall up and back slightly. Reaching her hands into the dark space above, she retrieved a leathery bag from the indicated second tile, pulled it out – an inconspicuous handbag – and replaced the crusty, water-stained ceiling tile she'd moved.

Phase one was complete.

Everything looked in order.

The first thing she put to use from her kit was a bluetooth earpiece, which she synced up to her phone, and initiated a call with her 'partner.'

[ "About damn _time!_" ]

"It's called _maintaining cover, _you prick."

[ "Yea, yea...Get your ass back _out _there, and maintain _visual _on the target." ]

Through an exasperated sigh, Rachel replied, "Roger that..."

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

The place was _stuffy, _fucking _clean, _too clean!Pearl hated it. Everyone stunk of _fake. _OK, not, like, literally _every_one_, _you know what she meant. _Basically _everyone.

It was pretty weird, in that funny way that's dumb. What was the-...? _Ironic, _yea, that's it.

It was ironic. _Oof. _Pearl was fucking _tired, _the fuck was she so tired? She took a _nap. _Nayru's sake, man. Couldn't even think straight, head was-  
"Not a bad party, hunh?" came the gruffy voice of this _prick _they were fuckin' hand-tied into talking with. Dawson here was the fool who ran that big news site, the fool who'd _used _that site and his _grubby _gross hands to cause Pearl a _whole _ton of hassle she did not fucking need not long ago.

But Red was being a class-act gal for them, here, and asked them to play nice with the press, so...here they were. Workin' through a parade of website and magazine peeps, now ending with this man who'd been making the rounds on all the poor chicks here, prolly.

"Care for a drink, ladies?"

"Sure," Pearl blurted out, gazing around the hall absent-mindedly. She refused to look the asswipe in the eye after what he did last time. Least this stupid interview was out in public, so the dickweed couldn't pull any of _that_ shit. If he fucking _breathed _on her Marina the wrong way, she'd pop his face _so _fast...

"Uh...-" Before Marina could say nothin', there was a bottle of fizzy shit, boom. Bottle already opened. Glasses set down, too, ready to go. Carried right to the table by some purple-haired, purple-clothed, purple-eyeglassed twitchy little bean of a girl. Seemed like an intern.

"That the good stuff?" Donovan checked, all grumpy.

"Mm." The girl nodded obediently. Shittttt, was she afraid of _him_. Good reason, too. Farore knew what the hell bullshit this guy put her through on a daily basis, man.

_Run, gurl. Run far away as you can from this asswipe..._

But the girl didn't run. Like Pearl, like Marina, like the rest of 'em, she just smiled, nodded, played like this shit was all cool when it wasn't. They all pretendin' like this utter garbage pile of a man was OK, like everything around him was OK.

Wasn't OK.

Everyone had to smile for the fuckin' cameras. How that shit worked. Was what it was.  
Pearl hated it, but knew it was true.

"'Atta girl, Kim," said the bald-headed prick, waving his hand at her like she were his servant or some shit. "Now get back to that camera, needs the new battery."

Pearl watched the poor chick rush over to the camera set up next to their table. This stupid banner was stuck up on a stand next to 'em, had the website's logo on it and all that. They were set up in a corner of the lobby, with the shindig goin' on right around 'em.

Red was taking another turn at the main stairway, their stage for the night. She was singin' another one of her songs. Wasn't really Pearl's thing but she could tell Marina was all into it, focusing on Red singin' to try and avoid contact with this fool who had dared laid a hand on her and wasn't _gonna _lay a hand on her ever again else Pearl would throw him fucking down.

Did Red know what had gone down with Dawson? Prolly not. Or maybe she did and was just better at pretending. Fuck knew, fuck cared, was what it was, right? Red was a hot item, prolly knew she had to play that game to stay _in _that game.

But Pearl and her Marina let themselves ignore the man as he got up to pour champagne. They held hands beneath the table, and Pearl could just _feel _how annoyed Rina was with this shit, with this _man, _just from the way the blood pumped through Rina's fingertips.

So they listened to Red for a minute.

[ _"When she shines for me at night,  
And her skies show green and white,  
She will keep us in her sight.  
We all lie beneath her light." _]

"She's somethin', ain't she?" Dawson grunted, sliding a glass full of fizzy booze-juice to Pearl. He filled one up for Marina and set it before her. Neither of 'em replied to him, so he stuck his chin up to Red like they didn't know who he was talkin' 'bout. "Ya ask _me-_" (_we didn't_) "-lady like _that? _She oughtta stick to singin', 'stead of this...-" He wiggled his hand at the party-goin' peeps all around. "-..._political _shit." He took a sip of his drink as he sat himself down across the table from them, grumbling, "Doesn't suit a refined woman to be gettin' her hands dirty over that crap, stickin' her nose into city affairs. Entertainers do society best when they're _entertaining, _know what I mean?"

Pearl looked sideways to Marina. _Hooo, _Rina did _not _like what he'd said. Normal person? Wouldn't be able to tell. But _oooh _Pearl could tell...

Neither of 'em said anything still.

Dawson stared at 'em, his fat nose twitchin'.

Pearl really could've used a drink right then, so she had at it. _Ooof, _stuff was stronger'n she expected. Good, though. She took a second swig. When in Gerudo, do as the Gerudo do, right? Drink the fancy drink, eat the fancy cakes, blabla. Had to play the game to stay in the game...

"See _you _two are in a real talkative mood tonight," said Dawson with his petty bitter laugh. "Hey, _Kim, _that camera up yet?"

"J-Just about, Sir!" poor girl squeaked.

Pearl nudged Marina's thigh with her knee, leaning in to whisper in Inklish, "Yo, Rina, we _really _doin' this?"

"Shh," Marina _shushed _her? _Dafuggg?_

"Oh, _come _on," huffed Dawson at their whispers. "You think _I'm _happy to be stuck talking with _you _two?"

"I think you get off on it, either way," _shots fired _by Marina, yo! She sipped at her champagne like it was some _hotttt teaaaa,,, tho!_

Pearl drank more of hers, too, eyes wide as she watched where _this _shit was gonna go. That poor intern was swooping over, doubled checking Dawson's shirt mic.

With a sadistic laugh from his nose, Dawson came back like, "I think my _readers _get off on _all _you self-important _divas, _meaning that even when you venture outside your intended lane, it's in my best interest to not skip a beat."

"Let's not skip any, then," said Marina pleasant-as-fuck but _oooh mmmmm _she had fire, dude. "Wouldn't want to _venture _into any wrong _lanes_."

Dawson _grinned, _fool was psychotic. He looked at his intern and spun his finger round. She huddled over the camera and Pearl knew they were on. Pearl guzzled more liquid courage, gave Rina's thigh a brisk lil' rub beneath the table, and they faced this shit head-on.

After a hearty fucking laugh, the prick shook his head at his intern, who gave them a thumbs up from behind her camera. And so the bullshit began.

"Welcome back to the Augmented Eye, live from the Beacon of Hope Gala in downtown Arcadia. Next up, we have Off the Hook, fresh from their performance tonight. You know, ladies, it's..._truly _inspiring, seeing so many outsiders _swooping _into our good city to pitch in, lend a _hand. _These bombings have impacted more Arcadian lives than I think most realize. Now, I have to ask, wh

Actually?

Know what?

_Nah._

Fuck all this.

Fuck this noise, ya'll know how it is. Smiles, polite stuff, shootin' the shit, promoting what needs a shoutout...Buncha words, but nothin' really gets said, you feel? Pearl wasn't about it. But she'd be a nice girl. Drink her drink, smile and nod...

Few minutes went by, Pearl barely spoke a sound. Prick didn't deserve it.  
Felt bad, letting Mar-Mar do all the work. Was better than Pearl sayin' what she shouldn't say, though, right?

Pearl tuned outta the shit, let herself get lost in the sounds of the party. Red's music died down a bit, got all mellow, and by the time the interview was over, that belly-dancin' chick was making her way through a thick crowd of oglers, meet-n-greetin' like a champ. Pearl couldn't help but stare a little herself – damn, how'd that lady pull off baggy breaker pants, panties all showin', not even a full SHIRT, the fuck? What kinda outfit _was _that, at a place like this? Dang...Woman was _tight, _though, Pearl wouldn't lie 'bout that. The honkin' purple hair was a lil' dumb, maybe, but somehow the chick made it work with all that red? _Owned _the look, dead-ass about it somehow. Total respect.

"-'m sure will make a difference to the affected citizens of Arcadia."

"That's...all we can hope for," said Marina, taking Pearl's hand and lifting it up, setting it on the table for the camera to see. "We all...cope in different ways," she said, looking at Pearl with some worry.

_Fff fff_

Pearl sniffed, her head feeling _light _as she tried to nod, then gave up, nope, head might flop over if she tried _that _crap, wouldn't be able to put it back in place...

Pearl tried to speak, but din-damn, her lips were made o' lead, took a sec to get'er goin'.

"Mmmmyeah, iss a tragic, thing, what. what happening."

...nnnnnnailed it? What was wrong with her _mouth?_

"It _is_," Marina agreed, saving face like only she could. Pearl felt _weird _as she watched Rina's hand squeeze her own on the table, aaaaand _was _that her own hand? Orrr like...? "It _is _tragic, what's happening these days – people worried about where the next threat might come from, whether or not they're safe walking home from work. The best we can do is remain vigilant, remain calm, and give back to those less fortunate than we are, however we can."

"Lovely words from a lovely woman."

"Ha." Marina laughed but _**rrreeeeeee**_she wanted to smack his face, tho.

"Before we let you enjoy the festivities, here, why don't you remind Arcadia of what else you're up to in town this month?"

"We're gearing up to help host the biggest Battle of the Bands you've ever seen," Marina shilled. "New Year's Eve, outskirts of town, at the base of Celeste Mountain. All the artists here tonight? They'll be there, too. Even the Squid Sisters, so you best _believe _we're gonna be puttin' up a fight, ain't that right?"

Pearl nodded, grunted, laughed. _Hrrrrhggghhhgghffff _oo-rahhh yo yo URRGHHH gon' tear that shit up _WUT WUT_!.!.!

Rina had to calm Pearl down, she'd started laughing like she was on some kinda giggle juice.

"Is she all right?"

"What, Pearl? She's _good, _she's...just real jazzed up, Shantae's up next, so...-"

"I see..."

"Well!" Marina had taken Pearl up to her feet – _woooff. _"We'd better...go get out there," Rina said, excusing them from this bullshit. "I see Red's wrappin' up, we don't wanna miss what she has to say, so...-"

"Thanks for your time. Off the Hook, folks."

This _champagne, _tho, yo. Had a real kick like she couldn't _believe_. Pearl was struggling just to _stand, _to walk, _owwwww, __errhghhggghhh..._

They wandered to the crowd huddled by the stairway Red was using for a stage.

"You OK, Pearlie?" whispered Marina into Pearl's ear. "You're looking a little...unsteady. And you were acting _weird _back there."

Pearl _was _fuckin' dazed, dude. What. The effing a-through-z.

This 'party' was, tbh, pretty lame. Red was gorge, beaut, nice, very. Red _meant _all the nice stuff, she did, no bullshittin'. This purple-ponytail chick waitin' to sing, ehhhh, Pearl had a good gut feeling buuuut the lady seemed a little fake like the rest of 'em. Maybe just more thirsty for gazers than Pearl liked in someone, like she...-!

_Ffffff-_

**Pearl tripped.**"Pearl-!" Marina hissed, catching her girl by the back, and setting her up straight like a bolling pin. _Bowling _pin? _Eugh._"I didn'...- " Pearl was trying to communicate.

She was feeling..._out _of it. Like she was _on _something. But she didn't _take _anything! Serious! No _wayyyy _some piddly champagne coulda wreckt here likt his. Made no fucking _sense, _bruh. What. Was going. On here.

Worst part wasn't even that she wasn't feeling sober, but that she couldn't even appreciate _not _feeling sober, for a multiplitications...of reasons?

"Let's...-" Marina was escorting Pearl, whose legs were having _hellllla _trouble cooperating. _Knew _these heels were the _worst. _Idea. Literally. Worst. Would never caught be _dead _in this, made me come here, stupid _suit, dumb shoes!_ Ohhhh, ho-ho, but this, this, _thissss _is some _fancy-ass _hoity-toity shit, had to dress _upppp _n' look all pretty n' poshy pearl, I _hate _this-

_Hurrffff-  
_Almost upgushed some o' that drink. _Gughh.  
_Nah, nahhhh good, we good. We _good!_

Oh. Oh we _sitting _now? Eh? Sittin'? Out in the back, here? In this _hallway _or something? Hidin' our asses out _back _in the _dark, _this old-timey shit all on the walls, n'...-

"Are you OK? What the hell...-?" Rina was talking, but...-?

Took Pearl's fucking _brain _a sec to process words.

_Wake the fuck up._

"_What _is _wrong _with you?" Marina whispered, her voice like hot coals dumped all over Pearl's face. "Can you be _quiet_? Red's trying to _talk _out there."

"Wh-? I wasn't...-"

_Ah, fuck._

"You were just _rambling, _Pearlie. Being _super _disrespectful. Kinda _not _OK."

Ah. Yea. _Fuck. _She'd said some of that crap out loud, huh? Hopefully in Inklish...?

Where had this started, again?

Ironic.

_Ironic. _YEEAAAA yea yea yea yeayeayea, that _asshole!_

Everyone here was a _fake _but that one _asshole, _that reporter prick, the bald one with the gross stache!

"think he _put somethin' _in my _somethin'_," Pearl snarled quietly at Marina, feeling her eyelids sagging.

"What?"

"Dawwwwson," seethed Pearl through her teeth, her eyes squinted shut as her head swam in 'somethin'.'

Donovan D. Dawson.

That asshole.

Ohhhh, they'd _done _their stupid fuckin' interview for him. Champagne, he _poured _it n' they weren't looking. _Shit shit shit fffffuccckkking fucker cunthole, _he was the one who _gave _Pearl her drink, hadn't he? POURED IT himself.

_Yea, _yeayea, she _remembered. _Thought she did. Maybe makin' it up?  
_Ooof. _This was...-

"A mess. You're a _mess, _Hime, _what_ the...-?"

Marina felt tears forming at the edges of her eyes. She _hurt, _seeing Pearl like this. Sure, whatever, having a good time, a little blunt, a little booze, here or there...not really Marina's thing, but Pearl could be cute, in a way, when they partook in that stuff. But _this, _no, Marina _recognized _this, this was the even-worse-stuff. This made Pearl stop acting uninhibited and start acting like...fucking _nothing. _Like she was nowhere, inside her own head. Marina loathed it. It physically _ached _her, right in her gut, in her chest, to see her love like this. It wasn't the first time, but Marina had _thought _that hospital trip would've been the last.

_'think he put somethin' in my somethin'.'_

It was possible Pearl was just spouting gibberish. But Marina didn't think this was something Pearl would've managed to put together in words if not for a reason. And there was _precedent _with this...-

Well.

Donovan Dawson _was_ an asshole. She'd admit it, she'd go so far as to use the word. She _hated _having to play nice with him – but they'd promised Red...

It was no wonder ***Kira* **Mikki had turned down Red's request to perform at this show. Marina had _wished _she had known about this sooner, but, ah. Maybe Red was just too protected to have to deal with Dawson like this. Maybe she knew how to keep him in check. Marina didn't know. But if it was true – if he had drugged her Pearlie – then that made this shit a _pattern, _officially, and Marina would _not _abide.

She had connections, and wasn't afraid to use them if she had to to protect her Hime.

As Marina's brain had nearly short-circuited trying to sort this out, one of the officers doing security detail at the event approached the pair. The couple was seated on an old wooden bench in a back hallway down the west wing, near one set of restrooms. Marina had chosen to take refuge from the main floor as soon as she noticed Pearl looking unwell.

"Everything all right, here?" asked the guard, keeping their distance respectful but their tone concise.

The officer carried themselves sternly and rigidly. Their nametag read: { F. AMARI }

"Is your companion in need of medical attention?" asked the cop.

Marina reminded herself that they'd been having this convo in Inklish, so Marina had to shift her tongue's gears around to the local language.

"I, um-..." Marina hesitated. "I think she might be sick. Someone-..."

The _second _Marina got the authorities involved, she had _no _guarantees this wouldn't blow up.

Which was _exactly _what that asshole wanted, no doubt. For Pearl to 'mess up' again, in public, at an event like _this? _The shame they'd have to endure from Red alone was an unbearable idea to Marina.

Finishing her thought to the officer, Marina changed course.

"Someone should look after her while I...-" She rose from the bench, running a hand across Pearl's head gently. "-...go arrange for someone to get us a ride home."

"Understood," said 'Amari', standing watch beside the bench with a courteous nod. They tapped the comm unit on their shoulder and muttered something into it as Marina approached the gala floor.

Red's voice was echoing through the building via the speaker system as she finished her speech from atop the luxurious stairwell at the heart of the hall's lobby.

[ "-for the victims of last month's attacks. Your generosity tonight will help families put food on their tables. It will help victims heal their wounds. It will ensure that children affected by the bombings still have a future to look forward to, unburdened by crippling debt. You're protecting families from the hands of dark fate." ] Red paused, and Marina caught her gaze as she realized just how bluntly she was stalking across the hall. She slowed her roll a little to not distract from Red's speech. [ "When I heard about these tragic events in your beautiful city, I knew I wanted to contribute, to pay respects. Where I come from – up in Cloudbank – our community is constantly adapting to fit the needs of its people. And I wanted to bring a piece of that to Arcadia tonight. But there is _one _man who made this evening possible, pulling so many together, uniting us around this cause. I'd like to allow that man to have his say – the man of the hour, everyone: Mr. Volfred Sandalwood!" ]

Marina was practically stopped dead in her tracks by the uproarious applause that pounded the marble walls, columns, and floors of the hall.

The CEO of Zaibatsu himself emerged from upstairs, humble and calm as he always was. Marina did admire the man's stage presence, though it was of a much different sort to her own. His appearance was a bit of a surprise, unannounced to the public. Even Marina hadn't known he'd show his face at this party. His every movement was graceful yet stiff at the same time, his slender fingers waving to the crowd upon his descent from the second story.

[ "Yes, yes. Mm. Mm-hm." ] He nodded, lowering his hand at the audience to qwell their cheers as he reached the microphone at the stairwell's plateau. [ "Many thanks, one and all, for your generosity during these difficult times. I'd like to formally announce that I will match all of the proceeds made tonight –" ] Another swell of cheering. [ "– so those of you who may still be considering your donations might have more incentive. Before our next performer graces us with her alluring presence, I'd like to take a moment to tell you all a story: a story from years ago, when I was much shorter and, if you can believe it, somewhat less strange." ] Some polite chuckles, filling the whole place like bubbles.

The press would've been _swarming _the place if they knew this man was here. He rarely made such appearances, formal or otherwise.

And that was where Marina would find her man – in the chaotic paparazzi scramble.

As Volfred tried to calm the crowd, multiple members of the glamorously dressed elite began taking out their phones, memorializing the moment. A quick scan of those figures swiftly directed Marina to the shining bald head of Donovan Dawson. There was no way that guy was _not _live-streaming this, leaving him oblivious to Marina sneaking up behind him. His intern was being a busy bee, recording the event from a safer distance with her shoulder cam.

Volfred was regaling his court with a flowery tale of his younger days working in a mail room, of graduating to running the printing press for a local newspaper, and the unfortunate mine-shaft incident which had crippled the city in his younger years. Marina knew the story, she'd seen a doc on the man at one point. Rags to riches sorta thing, going from a humble print worker to climbing the corporate ladder. Had to admit that unlike most CEOs, on the occasion the guy _did _show himself, he genuinely seemed to give a carp about this city he helped industrialize.

But Marina wasn't wading the crowd to fawn over some tall, dark man in a suit. She was there for Dawson. Finding herself behind him, she knew Donovan's guard was down. So she hissed into his ear – loud enough that she hoped his phone (and thus his livestream) caught it, but not so loud as to interrupt the high-decibel, high-bass projection of Mr. Sandalwood.

"Why'd you drug my girlfriend, Mr. _Dawson_?" She made sure to emphasize his name, giving his shoulder a tap on the shoulder with the edge of her teal fingernails. She relished in the way he flinched, and she seized the moment, swiping his phone and pointing it at him.

"The fuck're you talkin' about, y-..._You?_"

He made a swipe for his phone, but Marina dodged backward, leaving him to get shoved by the hungry paparazzi piranhas a little. As he squirmed around, Sandalwood's tale of rags to riches overshadowing them all, Marina flipped the camera onto herself.

"Marina – Off the Hook – coming at you LIVE from _this asshole's _phone. Donovan Dawson is a manipulative _creep _who sexually harassed me and my girlfriend earlier this year, and now he's-"

Donovan had caught up to her quicker than she'd anticipated, snagging his phone back – or trying to, knocking it to the floor.

They were starting to make a bit of a scene, so much so that Volfred had paused his speech.

Marina simply smiled and waved, cautiously backing away from the man hunched on the floor, scrambling to shut his phone's feed off.

His eyes pierced through what shield she'd built up, sending an unnerving shock through her system.

There'd be consequences for this. But then, he'd brought this on himself. She was ready to go circles around this prick if he wasn't going to leave her Pearl alone.

Firing back her best ember-glow glare, Marina muttered polite and courteous apologies as she helped the creep to his feet, keeping up appearances, as if this were some mishap. Volfred continued, but Marina's senses were entirely occupied with burning this bald fucker with her mind.

Her chest on fire, her heart racing, she whispered to him with steel syllables, "Your turn in the spotlight," before he shoved her away.

Her legs suddenly weak, she nearly toppled over as she tried to find her way back to Pearl. She'd need to get on the phone and call Sheldon, have him iron things out. They'd have to apologize to Red for leaving early, but...maybe this could become the start of an actual dialogue. If anyone they had any connection to could help with this, it was Red.

But in this damn dress, she had no pockets – Pearl was carrying both their phones that evening in her suit.

In her heart-fluttering dash to her love, Marina bumped shoulders with a startlingly radiant woman in a blood red dress.

"Sorry, excuse me," Marina warily – hastily – muttered, working her way by.

The woman, her precariously straightened golden locks shuffled out of place by the encounter, simply gave the singer in the silver, gaudy outfit a stern look, waiting for her to disappear down a hallway before resuming her scouting.

[ "What was that about?" ] asked the voice in her ear, coming through her ear piece.

"Nothing," Rachel replied, sifting her hair back into a presentable position.

[ "Why haven't you _done it _yet?" ] he complained. As he always seemed to. [ "We're not exactly going after someone with a skill-set you can't deal with..." ]

"It's not the right _moment_," Rachel explained as calmly and quietly as she could from her place at the back of the crowd. "I'm waiting until she's alone," she clarified, making sure she still had eyes on the target.

[ "_Rrrrrrghhhh...!_" ]

"Oh my _Nayru, _are you impatient," she sighed gently and tiredly. "Swear to _fucking _Goddess, don't they have, I don't know, something you can _take _for that?"

[ "Like _what? _From _where? _In this place? _HOW._" ]

"I don't _know, _but _holy _shit, do you need to cool your jets."

[ "You're one to talk." ]

"I _am, _you know? _I am. _Take it from me, prick, you need to find a way to _calm __down _or you're gonna...-" Rachel could _feel _her arms quivering, jittering. Stinging. It was _him._ "_Fucking _A," she hissed, taking a couple steps back from the crowd to shake her arms out. "You _see _what you're doing?"

[ "..." ]

Dead air on the other side. Rachel flicked her wrists out – was like they were sore but had also fallen asleep. She could feel his influence still sparking about, her muscles twitching slightly and involuntarily.

There was a wave of applause as Sandalwood finished up his speech.

[ "Thank you, Mr. Sandalwood," ] said Red, swooping in to the microphone. [ "Our next performer will be with us shortly, but in the meantime, please consider speaking with one of our representatives, and remember: every dollar raised tonight will be matched by Zaibatsu to help victims of the Arcadia bombings put their lives back together." ]

The gala hall gradually buzzed with activity again as Volfred took his leave, heading upstairs.

"Maybe we should go get acquainted with _him, _instead," Rachel pondered, watching Sandalwood take his elongated strides up the marble steps. While she did owe the man a debt, she owed a _few _people some very steep debts, and that never stopped her from getting what she wanted, in the end...

[ "_No,_" ] seethed her impatient partner. [ "What the hell is _wrong _with you? Stick to the _plan_." ]

"Yea, I _was,_" she testily reminded, folding her twitching hands against her waist. Nails scratching over her satin dress. "Until you got _trigger _happy..." Rachel re-scanned the lobby.

The target was on the move.

[ "Don't lose sight of her!" ]

"I _won't,_" Rachel insisted, her heels clacking against the polished stone of black, cloudy formations on off-white.

[ "I cannot _believe _I am stuck trusting _you _of all people with this..." ]

Rachel huffed hot air through her nostrils, pursuing the target with care. She came to a dead stop.

"We can always re-negotiate terms with the client if there's someone _else _you'd rather w-"  
[ "_Shut up, shut up, _I get it, just _do _the job!" ]

With a smirk and a slight shake of her head, Rachel put one foot in front of the other.

"_That's_ what I thought, dick."

[ "Remember: we need her _alive_." ]

"I'm _aware._"

So, then. Where was their target _going? _She looked flustered over something or other, and was on her phone, only...it looked like something was amiss. She was a portly woman, early to mid thirties, with chubby limbs and a round figure. Her skin had freckles aplenty and her blonde hair was frayed at the edges despite what appeared to be _some _semblance of effort at tidying it into a braided ponytail for the event. Her simplistic, flower-petal-laden dress admittedly _did _flatter her features, and given the ring on her finger, Rachel assumed the spouse must have picked it out. This woman did _not _understand presentation.

But that was fine.

They weren't after Doctor Alphys for her sense of fashion.

Stalking her from a safe distance, Rachel watched as she feigned for the east bathroom, only to take a swerve down the ornate hall, heading for a stairwell. The guard posted on that hall was preoccupied assisting one of the evening's performers, who was looked pretty...drunk? She'd still managed to stop Alphys, however, but with a citation of "I-I-...Em-Emergency, need-...need reception...-!" in tandem with the sickly singer starting to barf up over her boots.

The guard sighed out "Proceed," and shooed Alphys off.

When Rachel made her pass, and the same guard gave her a confused look, Rachel simply pointed off down where Alphys had scuttled toward, flashing her most convincing look of concern.

"That's my friend?" Rachel insisted with a slight shake of her head. "I just-...She has an important call – someone might've _died_? I need to be there for her, in case-...Well..." _Aaaaaand _a timid, squeamish look for good measure.

[ "What the hell's going on?" ] that damned voice grumbled in her ear, but she ignored him.

The officer looked forlorn, and even more so when the platinum-blonde shrimp of a performer stumbled into her, moaning in what sounded like Inklish.

"marina. Where the fuck's marina...? That asshole...if he fuggin...-"

The officer shrugged up one shoulder at the singer, and at Rachel's impatient but expectant look, shooed her off with a nod of her head.

"You both had better come _back _quickly," called the guard. "It's not safe up-"  
_"Hurrrghhh...-!"_

_Ugh, _

disgusting. That sick singer chick was heaving and coughing and-..._gross._

The guard's shoes were covered in watery vomit.

It at least served as the distraction Rachel needed.

"M-Ma'am, please, you need-..." The officer was trying to ease the sick lady toward the bathroom, but the chick had slumped over against the wall. Pressing her shoulder walkie and speaking into it, the guard flung her hand at Rachel to get on with it. Relieved but unsurprised that it had been that easy, Rachel tried to rush along as inconspicuously as she could, the guard's voice fading into the distance. "Amari here. I'm going to need that medic ASAP, Miss Houzuki is...-"

After rounding a corner, Rachel popped her heels off, discarding them by a potted plant. They'd just be a hindrance from here on out – but her handbag wasn't just for show. It had been packed with items Rachel had requested for this op. Keeping an eye – and an ear – on the direction the doctor was headed, Rachel pulled out a pair of plain black sneakers. Would've been too conspicuous to be wearing in the lobby, but...this was Phase Two.

[ "Well, _that _sounded messed up. Anyway, what do you think Al's _doing _up there?" ] he grumbled impatiently into Rachel's ear as she snuck toward the stairwell entrance – much more quietly and comfortably than she would have in heels.

Rachel hummed out a distant breath of uncertainty, intent on not giving herself away, and wondering why the _hell _this frustrating brat was asking her such things when she was concentrating. Reaching the metal door leading to the stairwell, she precisely grasped the handle, very slowly turning it and quietly nudging it open. She could hear Alphys' heels clattering up the stairs.

"Hello? _Hello?_ Can you hear me?"  
Alphys' voice rebounded across the stairwell jarringly.

Easing the door closed behind her with a delicate, adroit touch, Rachel kept an ear out as she continued her stealth – this was exactly why she'd worn a dress that gave her legs a wide berth, at least.

"Frisk?" Alphys' lispy voice was whimpering. "Wh-Wh-Where are you? What-? What are...-?!"  
A metal door slammed shut, instantly muffling the conversation. "..._Oh. _Oh, dear. That's-...No, that's not-...Frisk, you need to...-"

[ "What?" ] he was grumbling into her ear. [ "What's she _saying_?" ]

Rachel's chest tightened. 'Frisk?' As in, 'Subject Seven?'

Shit. Fuck. _No, no, _she couldn't deal with that kind of interference...

"She mentioned the kid," Rachel grunted warily, rounding her way up. The only place Alphys could've gone was the roof – which meant she'd be trapped.

[ "Wait, the kid? As in, the _kid _kid?" ]

"The fuck do you _think?_" huffed Rachel under her breath, swerving up the last corner of the well. She slowed her pace as she approached the door.

[ "Are they _there?_" ]

"What, at the _party? _No. _Definitely _no."

[ "Because I just saw-...Wait, wait...-" ]

"I thought you could _see them_," Rachel grumbled.

[ "Huh? I _can! _But I don't-..._Argh, _just shut up a second..." ]

Rachel was confused. She dismissed whatever the angry idiot was on about, readjusted her handbag's position on her shoulder, and took a moment to breathe.

_want to rip his stupid smile off his stupid face tear all the fucking petals off and __**burn them  
burn all of it all of it  
he wants a reset? Ohhhhoho I'll GIVE HIM a reset  
bring this whole fucking thing crashing down to...-**_

Deep breath.  
Deeeeeeep breath.  
_Take your own advice, Amber._

[ "_Hello?! _Are you even _listening _to me, or what?!" ]

Rachel's fingers squeezed tightly against the door handle, her jaws clenched with frustration, an instinctual reaction to his inane commandeering.

"Trying _not _to but I've realized that's fucking _impossible, _so...-"

After an unpleasantly loud squeak from her sneakers echoed through the stairwell in her haste, Rachel had burst through the metal door, onto the roof, the cold winter air blasting over her, through her bones.

Alphys wasn't there. Baffled, Rachel could feel her eyes bugging out of her skull as she scanned the rooftop. There wasn't really much of a place to hide. The glass dome ceiling portrayed the gala below. That purple-ponytailed bimbo was taking the staircase stage – though Rachel realized she perhaps shouldn't be too hard on her own kind. Shantae was a chameleon, like Rachel was, but that slut sold her trickery far too cheaply and easily. Shantae _wallowed _in selling herself. It was embarrassing, so far as Rachel was concerned.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"Heyyyyy, beautiful Arcadians~!" Shantae waved, giggling into the microphone. "Yes! Yeaaa-haah~" She strutted down the right side of the upper stairs, arriving at the wide landing above the main central stairs. "Shantae here, How're ya'll doing tonight, huh? Living your best lives? Hey, hey, save some champagne, not all of us have gotten a chance at that yet. Heh. But real talk, everyone, real talk, here. When Red told me about what all has been going on out here recently, I knew I wanted to contribute in my own way. Part of that means doing what I do best – struttin' my stuff for all you fine people – but I also want to announce that next week, I'll be co-hosting a telethon with MTT Network to continue building off of what you've all accomplished tonight. We can't undo what's happened to the victims of these attacks, but that doesn't mean we can't find ways to help them out. I'll leave it to Mettaton to announce the deets when he's ready on that, so stay tuned. Now, then – with that being said, I think it's time to get back to the show, amirite?"

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"Uh...Yo, Max?"

Max heard Chloe's prodding but was too focused on her quarry – Rachel seemed to have disappeared from the main hall as the next performer had shown up. What was she _here _for, who was she _after? _Given the circumstances, Max was hard pressed to believe Rachel was there as a donating patron, much less-  
"_Max! _Hey! Helllooo?!" Chloe was whispering. Why?

"_What?_"

Max dropped her binoculars for a second to glance to her right at her wife. Chloe was using an old as hell spyglass from their childhood as her spying tool in the absence of a second pair of 'nocs' (as she'd called them).

"We got company," Chloe explained as concisely as she could, jutting a finger across the way.

Sure enough, across the glass dome, toward the stairwell access door to the roof, there was now a woman, round in figure and seemingly unaccustomed to walking in high-heels. She looked panicked based on her fidgety body language, and Max couldn't help but find it suspicious.

Keeping a low profile, Max flicked her wrist, signaling Chloe to follow. They began circling round the hall's dome roof, keeping an eye on the odd woman. She seemed to be fussing with her phone, making some kind of call...

"-...have to use it before she _finds me!_"

By the time they were close, they could see the woman ended her call abruptly. She was finagling with her phone for a moment – texting someone, from the way her thumbs were moving – before jamming her device into into her faux-scale purse. Max noticed something odd: out of that same purse, the woman pulled some kind of...disc-shaped...something? She tinkered with it for a moment, then...-

What the hell?

She just _chucked _it from the roof. Like a damned frisbee. Lifting up something in her opposite hand, she seemed intent on watching the disc she'd just thrown sail downward toward the ground.

Max and Chloe exchanged puzzled looks before Max took initiative.

Emerging from their semi-cover against the roof's dome, Max greeted, "Hello? Is something...-?"

But before Max could finish, the woman had flinched, and then...vanished.

Just...into thin air. She left behind some kind of...trail of pink light, briefly, which quickly dissipated.

"-...the matter?" Max finished her sentence as she watched this unfold.

Chloe stood upright and stepped away from the dome, approaching the spot where the woman had just been standing.

"Did you...-?" Chloe balked, pointing at the now unoccupied spot in space.

"Yea," Max mumbled, trying to make sense of what had just transpired.

"You think she did what _you _do?" ventured Chloe with a befuddled shrug.

Max shook her head, rubbing at her chin as a cold breeze swept over them. Holding fast to her hat, she pondered the possibility. But, no, why come all the way up here, only to disappear like that? If she could do what _Max _could do, surely she'd have just avoided the pair of them entirely, right?

Besides, that pinkish, purplish light...Max wasn't familiar with it. At all. Odd.

"What was that thing she threw?" wondered Max aloud, peering over the edge of the building. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but from that height, she couldn't make out details. Pulling out her binoculars, she tried scanning the streets below them.

"Whatever it was," Chloe surmised, "doubt she came all the way up here just to play with some toy..."

Unable to pick out anything of note, Max gave up. Whoever that person was, they weren't either target. Turning away from the roof's edge and elbowing Chloe gently, she tipped her head back to the gala unfurling below them.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Alphys, safe and sound(ish) in an alleyway a block away from the venue, was carefully maneuvering over a puddle of her own vomit, dropped out involuntarily as she'd stumbled for cover off of the main street.

Good news: it seemed Olivia's estimations were correct. The translocator _could _work with Alphys' physiological composition, and across a decent distance, at that!

Not as good news: the signal strength was stilllll not the best, meaning Alphys had to have climbed to the roof to get a strong enough connection between the receiver and the translocation plate.

Bad news: oh-goddesses-did-using-the-tech-make-her-sick.

That had been a close one. If Frisk hadn't warned her...-

N-No. Shouldn't think about that.

[ ".. .. . . … …... . . . …" ]

She couldn't quiver into a puddle again, going down that d-dangerous line of thinking.

Her research had p-paid off, a-and...and-...

[ "..? . .. .! .. .. p.h.y.s.?" ]

_Oughh. Hurf-!_

_S_

o dazed and queasy from the jump, she flopped into the side of a garbage dumpster with a -_whumpf_-. Her heart was thumping harshly, her face flushed with blood as it tried to recover from the misalignment her body had just undergone.

[ "Are you all right? Doctor?" ]  
The voice Alphys had just called moments ago was still trying to engage in conversation via Alphys' phone, which she'd tucked into her purse before the leap.

Awkwardly tugging the uncooperative device out from between a hairbush and a pack of chewing gum, Alphys replied.

"Yuh-...Y-Yes, Sandra. Th-Thanks, I...-" Alphys rolled from her knees onto her bottom, taking a moment to catch her wind back. Shuffling her glasses on straight, she lamented the dirt she'd gotten on the only actual dress she owned from her less-than-elegant landing. "I made it out OK. I think? I _think _I did...?"

[ "It would seem your little test operation was successful," ] Sandra mused, sounded very sly and taunting, as she often did.

"It would _seem_," Alphys repeated her confirmation, though less amused. "I-I appreciate your-...your timeliness, it...-"

[ "I'm always here to assist, Doctor." ] In the pause between Sandra's sentences, Alphys could _feel _the tension rising. Sure enough... [ "It's not as if I have much choice _otherwise_..." ]

And there it was.

"Not at the moment," Alphys sighed, trying to walk the middle line. "If things keep p-progessing, as they have, however, we can...perhaps...-" She trailed off. She was in no position to make promises.

[ "Don't forget to retrieve the plate," ] Sandra reminded, referring to the translocator. [ "Even with my help, that device is useless without both pieces." ] She was bitterly discarding Alphys' half-hearted attempt at instilling hope.

Alphys begrudgingly turned around to glance at the metallic emblem on the ground, still steaming from the energy that had been flooded through it moments prior.

"R-right," moaned Alphys, wiping a tired palm across her makeup-caked face, smearing it around a bit in her exhaustion. Upon realizing what she'd just done, she gawked at the gunk in her palm and grunted irritably.

Hobbling to the small hexagonal plate on the grungy tarmac, Alphys bent down, scooping it up, and reattached it to the core unit, still in her purse. All the while, she lamented this turn of events.

Why couldn't this party have just gone by without incident? Did _everything _have to devolve into some kind of emergency now? Why was Subject Seven on the loose? Why had they come to warn Alphys? And why was someone _after _her? Was it Vaswani? Or one of her superiors, maybe? Who'd made the call? What did they _want _her for, and why did she feel an awful fear about it?

Alphys' aching brain was beginning to finally level out from her metaphysical leap.

[ "Shall I remain on standby, then?" ] Sandra checked. [ "In case your assailant continues to give chase?" ]

Being able to utilize Sandra's inherent, latent abilities would certainly prove useful if the need arose. Alphys was fairly certain that even that overgrown dandelion wouldn't be able to track them.

"Puh-Please do, yes," Alphys instructed, setting her phone to rest on her round stomach as she let her arms sag to her sides, whimpering out her exhaustion.

[ "Should I arrange for transportation?" ]

"Uh-...Uh, um, what...-?"

[ "A Warp Whistle." ]

Ahhh, right, that ride-share service where one contacted roaming drivers to escort them, sort of like private taxis.

"Sh-Sh...Sure, all right, yea, that sounds good..."

[ "Re-initiating contact until your transit arrives..." ]

Alphys readied herself, despite her nausea.

Her stomach lurched, her vision blurred, her muscles went stiff...

She and Sandra were once again -

**\- connected -**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Down on the street, Officer Lena Oxton was pulling her motorcycle into the parking lot of City Hall, having caught a glance of some flash of light and force from the side of the building. Her fear was that some kind of bomb had gone off, but...when she hopped off her bike to inspect the building's structure, it...was entirely in tact. The music pounding from within the hall was still going strong.

Was she just seeing things? Doubtful.

Her helmet still tucked beneath her arm, she checked her phone, having expected some kind of update from Aloy's contact on site.

Nothing.

Biting her lip and tapping her thumb aimlessly against the side of her phone, Lena took another glance at City Hall from her position on the sidewalk. She tucked her phone back into her jacket, paced back to her bike, hung up her helmet, and took a moment to survey the scene, wondering what to do with herself.

Just as she decided to enter the gala, she received a text from Aloy.

( Any word? )-

Lena replied,  
-( Not yet, luv. )

Aloy then requested,  
( Keep me posted. )-

to which Lena said,  
-( Aye aye! )

Officer Oxton paced up across the front lot of City Hall – with its elegantly laid brick path cutting through two rows of palm trees. She passed by some party-goers on her way up the massive staircase and between its entryway columns, which were currently splashed with golden lights.

She entered the hall, nodding along to the front guards, passing through the security check, and...lost herself a bit in the glamour of everything displayed before her. She was keeping her eyes peeled for either of the two targets – Miss Amber, or Toriel's child.

The purple-haired, provocatively dancing singer front and center in the hall's main lobby was...kind of not conducive to Lena's current search, as pleasant a sight as she was. Lena decided to start poking around the party, see what turned up.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Everything had gone tits up on this fucking assignment.

Rachel was supposed to have cornered the Doctor in a bathroom or something, threatened her life, and let her partner do his thing to keep her constrained.

_WHY _had the bitch run to the _roof? _And where had she _gone? _Did she have someone helping her, like Rachel did? And if so, _who?_ Why? How had Alphys been warned? Who else could've known?

Unless..._Fuck, _did Chloe's wife know something? Had their stupid visit to The Downside tipped them off? _DAMNIT._

Rachel couldn't find Alphys, and had been briefly distracted by the belly-dancing bimbo below, but now that she was on the hunt again...-

[ "Head's up – that chick from before is up here." ]

"What?" Rachel murmured, pressing her earpiece in closer to make sure she heard that right.

[ "Right in front of you. The, erh, the chick from the restaurant?" ]

Rachel was confused. Right in front of her was the massive glass dome roof to the hall, and-...

Shit. Bastard was right. Staring at her from the opposite end of the building stood two figures.

Rachel was just _glaring _at them. Max couldn't make out her expression from across the distance, but she doubted it was friendly.

"Chloe...?" Max prodded, maintaining eye contact as she elbowed her wife in the ribs.

"I don't _see _her, where do you...-?"

Chloe trailed off as Max pointed out the golden-haired woman in the dress across the dome from them.

Rachel pressed her palms up against the glass, shooting them dagger looks.

"...Oh," Chloe blurted. "We, uh-...We should probably...-"

But Max was already on her way around the structure, ready to face Rachel head-on and get some answers.

Rachel was...mumbling to herself? Max couldn't make out what she was saying.

"Rachel Amber!" Max called out testily, snapping photos of the woman without a second thought.

Rachel shook her head at Max's approach, half of her form swathed in golden light from the lobby below them, the other half scorned by the bluish dark of the winter night air beneath dim moonlight.

Chloe was rushing to catch up to Max, sputtering out nervously, "_Heyyyyyy, _Raych, what a-...What a _wild_...co-inky-...I mean-..._Whoo, _small world, amirite? That we'd all-..._Psh. _And after _just _bumping into each other earlier this-...It's, uh**-...Yea."**

Max and Rachel were both glaring at her impatiently. Shoving her hands into her overall pockets, Chloe shrugged and nodded once, looking down at the gravel rooftop as she rocked to and fro on her boot heels.

"What did you _do?_" Rachel demanded, slowly approaching them. "Huh? Fucking moron, meddling with shit you don't know _anything _about, you-"  
"A cop hired me to keep my eye on you," Max blurted, figuring she'd play the smaller card first. "_Obviously _whatever shady shit you're up to, it's gotten attention_ I _don't think you want. If anything happens to us, what do you think that'll mean for _you?_"

Rachel slowed to a stop right before them, her eyes narrowing. She looked unimpressed by Max's threat.

"_Nothing _will happen to me," Rachel scoffed. "You think those incompetent _pigs _can do anything to stop all this? They couldn't help _me _when _I_ needed it! Or those _girls _you're looking for? Can't even help _them, _either, can they? Need _your _unprofessional ass to do the legwork _for _them!"

Max turned to Chloe, who shrugged, rolling her eyes and looping a finger in a circle near her ear.

_"Dude. _What the hell's your _deal, _Rachel?" Chloe demanded. "After what you _did, _you come back around here, and...-" Tossing her hands out with disgust, Chloe just blinked, shaking her head. "What _happened _to you?"

Rachel's eyes flickered with...pain? Nibbling at her lip precariously, she eyed Chloe for a tense moment.

"I never _left,_" Rachel cited. "You and this fucking _ace detective _here gave up looking for me...Just like the cops."

"What?" Max spilled out, her heart skipping at the idea. That wasn't-...They hadn't _given up, _they just...hadn't _found _anything definitive, so they just...-

Shit. Seriously, _what?  
_How the hell could Rachel have never left but _also _never have been found?

"_Don't _you try and pin _your _choices on _us_," Chloe defended. "You knew _exactly _where to find me. Bull_shit _you never left. We spent _weeks _looking for you, you were a _ghost._"

Rachel burst out a laugh at this, her hand slapping itself over half her face.

"Yea..." she mumbled, bemused. Pushing wind-swept hair back over her head, she nodded. "I disappeared, all right..."

Chloe pointed out, "And now you're back, and we _just so happen _to be crossing paths like this? I'm supposed to think that's, what, _coincidence?_" She turned to Max, looking for some kind of backup.

"Wh-?!" Max puffed out hot air, shrugging. She wasn't getting in the middle of this, the past was in the past, they needed to _leave it there._

"I don't _believe _in coincidence," Rachel sighed, "But now I know you were lying to me when you said you'd never abandon me."

Max didn't get what Rachel was trying to say. _Nothing _they had discovered insinuated that Rachel had been in Arcadia this entire time. It didn't make sense. She must have _really _gone underground for nothing to have turned up...In other words, she must've not _wanted _to be found, by Max's estimations.

So why did she look so hurt about it? So..._betrayed?_

Probably just an act to lower their guards. It sounded like the Rachel Amber that Chloe had described, the chameleon of a woman that never matched up with any two peoples' descriptions.

"Shut _up_," Rachel hissed, bobbing her head. "Let me deal with this..."

Max realized now that Rachel had something in her ear – so she was...talking with someone?

But this seemed to impact Chloe with a weight of disbelief.

"Who're you _talking _to?" shouted Chloe. "Huh?"

"My _partner_," Rachel said with a smarmy swagger. "He's an **idiot**, but he's been more helpful than _you _ever were..."

"_Fuck _you," Chloe deflected this guilt-trip. "You know what? _You _abandoned _me. _You abandoned _Frank. _You screwed us both over – in every fucking meaning of the word." Chloe's voice was cracking, shaking like a leaf in the wind, its stem unwilling to break. "Then you have the balls to be, like, kidnapping _kids, _now? The _fuck_, man?" She thrust out a disparaging hand, shaking her head as her eyes glazed over with impending tears. "Who even _are _you anymore?"

"_What?_" Rachel seemed offended. She hissed quietly, "_No, _I don't think they-..._**NO. **_Fuck. You are so...-"

"_This _bitch!" Chloe puffed at Max, choking out a sob, nodding her head to Rachel and ignoring whatever conversation Rachel was engaged with. The reaction made sense – Chloe was trying to pour her sorrow out for this woman who she'd once fancied the love of her life, and was being completely discarded in lieu of some...'partner?' Over the phone?

"-for sure? Then what 'kids' is she talking about?" Rachel was hissing quietly.

Wait – speaking of kidnapped kids, where _was_ Frisk, anyway? If the child was supposed to be here, and they weren't with Rachel, then...-?

"Where's Frisk?" Max asked bluntly.

"...Who?" Rachel said, brows furrowed – too deeply. She knew the name. Her mask was slipping.

"Don't play dumb," Chloe accused, walking right up to Rachel and stabbing a finger against her sternum. "What the hell _happened _to you, Rachel? Sneaking around, stalking people, all in some secretive, shady-"  
"Oh, _what, _like your _wife _over here?" Rachel flicked out a hand at Max, who rolled her eyes.

This wasn't getting them anywhere.

Where had the woman from before gone off to?  
Where was Frisk?  
Why was Rachel _here_?

A lot of yelling, a lot of fuss, and yet not a single answer. It wore Max's patience. It was like they were transported back to college, where all of this shit had begun.

Chloe protested, "Max is an _investigator, _she's _helping _people. What the fuck are _you _doing? Breaking more hearts?"

"More like trying to put them back _together,_" Rachel hissed through clenched teeth.

"_Pff. _Yea, OK..." Chloe didn't buy it.

As usual with the mysterious case of Miss Amber, Max wasn't sure _what _to think.

"Like I _care _if you believe me," Rachel scoffed. "Just stay _out of _my way." She gave Chloe a harsh shove, which almost landed Chloe on her back.

"_Hey_," Max growled, stepping in to separate the two of them before Chloe retaliated. Max gave her wife a look, signaling that Chloe needed to cool it. Sucking in air through widened nostrils, Chloe swung her arm out of Max's grip and walked off a few paces, hands against her skull, as if to prevent steam from billowing out.

"I don't give a shit _who _hired you," Rachel seethed, tearing Max's hand off of her shoulder. "I fucking _warned _you to back off..."

"I can't do that," Max said plainly. "Not when a _cop _is _paying _me to keep tabs on you – not when people are going _missing. _You want us to stop following you? Give me some _answers._"

Wide eyes, brows furrowed, Rachel shrugged wildly, her hair whipping around as a cold wind rushed over them.

"I can't do _that,_" Rachel rebuffed. "What I _can _do is make you wish you hadn't interfered – maybe that'll at least give me another shot at accomplishing what I set out to do, here."

Max was...confused.

Rachel reached into her handbag, and pulled out...a _gun?_

How in the_ hell _had she smuggled a damn _gun _into this party? There was a metal detector and everything, the guards were scanning everyone's things on entry, they...-

Wait. Rachel hadn't had that _bag _earlier, when she'd entered the gala.

What in the _shit?_

"Max!"

Oh, yea. Gun. Meh. Max had sort of become conditioned to not fear the things as much as she probably should...After all, when worse came to worse, it was like Max was sort of immune, in a way, as if-

**-bang**-

Before Max could react, Chloe had plunged herself into Max, shoving her out of Rachel's fire. They both collided into the glass dome with a loud _-__**pompf**__-, _bouncing off of it and rolling against the roof's surface.

Max scrambled to get herself up, her face and hands scratched up from the collision.

Chloe wasn't moving. Sprawled in a heap on her side, she had a nice, bloody red spot on her jacket, with Rachel looming over the two of them. Chloe was wheezing and grunting with pain – she'd taken a bullet. Again. No, it was fine. Don't worry about it, this just-...This happened sometimes.

Glaring at Max through her pain as the life seeped out of her, Chloe shot Max a look.

_'Do it.'_

Damnit. Ugh.

"...Well?" Rachel taunted, gesturing her hands out. Sauntering over, leaning down, and pressing the barrel of her pistol against Chloe's temple, she goaded, "You going to make me finish the job? From what I hear, you don't have long to try this again...Easy way or hard way, Caulfield. Choose."

Max was..._bewildered._

But she remembered: Rachel had claimed to know what Max could do. What Max had used to get them through the place and up to this very roof in the first place. What Max used to keep tabs on targets that were proving difficult to follow. What 'gift' Max had first become aware of possessing specifically _because _of Rachel's disappearance, years back – and specifically because she watched her childhood best friend – Chloe – get shot right in front of her.

Max had certain abilities. Apparently, Rachel knew about them.

"Fine," Rachel huffed, cocking the barrel of her gun back. "The 'hard way,' then..."

"_Stop!_" Max cried out, fumbling over her own limbs as she tried to get up.

**-bang**-

Rachel just...shot Chloe again. Clear through the skull.

Max's arm, extended out uselessly, flopped down into her lap as she stared. Just...momentarily mesmerized by the sight of Chloe's blood pooling against the side of her skull.

Max wasn't even shocked, really. Just kind of...numb.

"Fucking _warned _you, Max," Rachel grunted, as if what she was doing was _nothing._ She pushed her foot against Chloe's motionless body, rolling the fresh corpse onto its back. They both gawked at Chloe's open, wide, blood-shot eyes, getting redder with each moment beneath the golden glow of the gala beside them.

Not again...Fuck-fuck-_fuck.  
_How many times, now?  
Twenty seven? Twenty eight?  
Max had lost count, honestly. It was in the high twenties.

Oh, uh-...The number of times she'd watched Chloe die.  
No, don't worry, this was-...  
This just kind of happened now and again, you know?  
Max always dealt with it, it was fine, she had things under control.

And that 'high twenties' was just counting the times Max had witnessed it firsthand. Had to have been closer to forty otherwise, though they'd managed to actually _go _a little while this time before...-

"_Do it, _already!" Rachel cried out. "I _know _you can..."

Right. Max had to focus.

_Chloe wasn't lying. Rachel __**is **__crazy._

Her hands shaking, _burning _with that tingling, electrifying sensation she both savored and loathed, Max gave Rachel's sadistic smirk one last glare before she flashed out her right palm, summoning that force she'd become familiar with.

With Chloe's body so close, the process was instantaneous. Max was immediately

**\- connected -**

Max's vision lost all sense of color before blurring, fading...

The burning sensation in her hand rapidly shot up her arm, seizing it like a bolt of lighting had gripped it.

Th́a̛t f̀or̷ce ͢s͢wi͝f͡tl͠y̧ ̨s̕ho̶t̴ u̴p͝ he͞r ̵s͢houlde͠r, ̸t̕h͏ro͘ug̸h ͢h͡er h͢eąrt,̧ úp ͡in̴t͢o ̨her̛ ͝ne͏ck, f͏ill̀in͝g ͠her ̴sk̛úl͏l.͟..͡

.͒̂  
̇̂ͣͧ.̓ͨ.̏̈ͥ̒̉͐  
̍ͫ̽…ͯ͌͋̎̎̔  
̔͂̓͋̋ͮ͛̽…̂ͩ͌̈́.̊́̇̓͆̃̀

".̡..̶nàc uoy͢ ͠won̨k I͡" ̕.͡tu̧o d͜e̛irc ҉lehc̀a͘R̡ ̀"!y͜d̀aerl̷a ͟,͟ti̷ ̡òD͘"  
͠,͏ḑe̛tn̵ur̕g lehcaR ",͢xa͠M͟ ,͠uo̶y ́den҉ra̡w̴ ͝gni̵k̕cùF"  
**-gnab**-

"͡!po̢ţS͡"͟  
"͝..̶.̡neh̛t ',̵y͟a̡w d̕ráh̀'̛ eh͘T ̧.̧eniF"̸  
**\- **-  
…̦͚ ̖̺̥̰͚…̘̰̜̦̯.̥͉̙͖͚.̻͚̝̦..͓͇̣̞͓̦ͅ.̰̲̹͓̦.̭͓̪..̪̠̯̯̞͇̮..̪͙̤.̫͇̼͍.̺͈̠̣͖ͅ..̩͙̦̲̦̮̺.̳.̩͓.̥̘̙̘̝ …͕͎̼̻̞.̯͖͕͙̝.̹̟̪͎ .̮̲̭.̯͖̩̯̮̜̫..̭̣̰.̘̥..̥̯̪̲͔.  
͇̰̻̻̗.̫̹̠.̫̠̪̫̹͍̘ ̱͉͍….͓̤.̦̘͙.͇͚̳̻̩͚̙.̭͕͓̙̠̞.͕̹̣̪.̗.̞̗͓̩̣.͖̪̱ ̯̝͕…̘̖.ͅ ̥̘̻̥͓̩. ͇̥̭.̬ ͕̬.͖͕͈̯ ͈̞̣̞̦.͙̫̺̟͚̺ ̗̮̙̘…͉̤̙̭͕͉ ͔̠̖̥͚̰͎ ͖̼͈̱ .̲̳̫ ͓̯̹ ̤̠͚̟̰̬.͕̯̝̲̲̻.̹͕̠͎͚͇ ͈̥ ̻ͅ ̬̼͔̯͉͓ ̦̼̱̝.̙͓̟͍͍ ͉͈̮̙͍ ͈͔̳̰̝̦̪ ̲͚͍̜̣̭ ..̥̲͉̺̜ ̩̱̟̲ ͈̖̪ ̣̬ ̝ ̰̻ ̹̠̯̻̝͈ ͎͓̺̘.̘͍̖͓͉̺ ̰̙̹̲ ͖̱̱̞ ̦̬ ͈̭ ̠̙̪͙͙ͅ ̞̬̲ͅ ͚̗͓͓̟ ̼ ̞̲̪̙͕͔ͅ.  
̪̦͔.̜̮̰ ̯̙̯̥͔ ̬͍̻̰ ͙̳̫̱̠͖̟ ̺̻ ̠ ̱̳͍ ̱͔͚̤̼ ͍ ̫͇ ͖͈̗̤̹̙ ̟ͅ .͔ ͎̬̹̺̩̘̰ ͖̺ ̘̱ ̰͔ ̹͉̪̝ ̘͚ ̜͓̼̪̟ͅ ̲̩̹̗̯ ̠̮̖͚ ̣̯̤̖ ̹͍͎̳̞̖ ̜͈ ̦ ̩̫̙̭̣̰̬ ͔̼̙ ̼͇͔̯ ̣͍͉͈̱̞̤ ̮̥͈̭ ̬̫̜͙̜ͅ ͓ ̞̞̦͖̻͇̟ ̮͎̮͔͚̥̹.͖̥̫̞͉̗͎ ͔͍̰̱ͅͅ ͇ ̘̻͓͓̘͍̜ ̗ ̞̠̭̳͍͓͓ ͓̬̰͙̭̦̤ ̦͎̻͎̺͙̖ ̥̺ ̜̯̖͉̝ ̙̹ ̼̳͓̤̟ ͓̤̣̱̝ ̙̹͙ ͍̝͓ ̟̼̦̗ ͈̗̣͔ ̯̖̰̙̣ ͚̜̫̪̭ ̪ ͔ ̗̘ ̙̲͓ ̹͎̺̤.̰̘̬͚̜̜̫ ͉̟̳͉̟̮ ̘ ͕͙ ͇̘̖̲͔ ͓̣̻̠̟ ̲̲̜̥̠̘ͅ ̘͍͎̻̗̠ͅ ̹ ̼ ͚̖͉̜̯͚̜ ̙̻̻̣͔ ̣̠̺ͅ ̞͖͍͎ ̗ ̘͕ ̘̺̰ ̝̜̬̲ ̟͚͓̭ ̙ ͎͎ ̘̯̭̪̹̘.

Max Caulfield had grabbed time with her mind, twisting it backwards. 'Rewinding,' as Chloe had coined it.

Seriously. Max could 'Rewind' time. She'd been doing it off and on for the better part of a decade, now.

In a way, it wasn't surprising anymore, was it?  
She'd gotten quite used to it.

It was like...manually twisting a cassette tape a few rotations back, only each spin of the reel simultaneously felt like stretching out one's brain flatter and flatter, because one was twisting reality itself a few rotations back – and not with a pencil, but with one's own being.

In other words, Max could only go so far backward before she'd pass out.

Just as the pain began to reach the point Max knew was dicey to tread, she released the force.

.̓̂͒.̈́̍̋̉͐̑ ̂͋.̉̑̔ͪͦ̾̓ ̊.̓̇̑ͨ̑͂̎.̓̅͊̒͂ͤ̔.̾.̔͌͐͑̉.̓ͣ̔̏̌̏..̿̑ ͋͑̒ͪ̇.̉.. ͪ̏ͮ̓ͪ̐.ͩͤ.̔ͧ̏ͯ.̈́ͮ.̃̎ .͒͛́̐͊̓͌ ͪ.̿̍̂̅͂͐ ̾͋̈́̾͋.̐͋͐̌ͥ̿ ͩ..ͪ̏̉̏̑̐̓.ͪ̾̓̑.͐̐͂ ̊ͮ̂͒̔̈́.̅̎̽

Gasping for air, she found herself coughing, choking on her own fluids against a thick pane of glass radiating a golden glow.

As familiar as she'd gotten with the process of going backward in time, Max's body still didn't seem to agree with it much. Go figure.

They were...-? _Where _were they? Right. Roof of City Hall. A couple minutes back, maybe? They were back where they had been before that woman had shown up...Not Rachel, the, erh, the _other _woman...Who...-?

"́̃W͋ͦͮ̃ͯͨḣ̃ͬ-́ͥ̊̂ͫͫ͆W̔͌ͦͪ̏̀̅h͋̓ŏ̒͊aͯ̒ͤ͌̈́̅͊,̔ͫ͊͌̏ ͣM͗ăx̿̽̽ͨ̌ͣ,͋ͤ͆̈̊ ͋̿ͪ̓yͭ̉̎oȗ̐̀ ̿͊͒O̓K̎ͫ̂?ͤ" Chloe checked from her side, pounding her hand into Max's back.

Max's hearing was coming back quick enough, but she was still faint-headed.

"Y-Yea, I was, um...-" Max coughed into her arm and wiped her nose, only to notice the glob of blood she'd smeared against her sleeve. "Shit..."

Chloe stared for a moment, then groaned with irritation.

"Damnit, Max, what _happened_?" Chloe was used to this. Sort of. "Don't tell me I _died _again..."

"What? _No_," Max quickly lied. Chloe always got more angry and annoyed if she knew it had happened yet again. It seemed to fill Max's wife with a sense of unsettling dread, like she was...'meant' to die. And _that _would get Chloe all self-conscious with guilt and she'd start rambling about how she 'didn't deserve to live,' and...-

No. Nope. Nuh-uh.

Max wasn't going to let that stand, and certainly wasn't going to abide any notion of it.

"_Fucking _A, Max," Chloe saw through the fib, though. Slapping at her wife with the back of her hand – Max barely flinched, still a bit numb, it seemed – Chloe huffed through her teeth. "Stop _lying, _I can _see _it in your eyes. _FFFFF__**Fuck**_**.**..-" She shrugged with frustration, shaking her head. "Well?! What's the plan, here? Huh? What's about to go down? What is it? I get-? I get pushed, or...-? Do I _fall_?" She thrust her hands out toward the roof's edge. Max was speechless, still regaining her bearings. Chloe tossed her head back. "I _do, _don't I? I fuckin' _fall, _din-**damnit **I'm such a klutz! I-"  
"Rachel," Max spat out the beginning of an explanation, clearing her blood-mucused throat.

Sniffing at her now loosened nostrils as more blood dribbled out, Max let it spatter onto the rooftop before wiping at her upper lip again. "She has-...She's got a gun, and-...Sh-Shot...-" Max's head went light for a moment, but she shook it off. "Shot you. She shot you, and...-"

"What, she shows _up?_" Chloe prodded. "Rachel? Like, up _here_?" She pointed a finger toward the ground, alarmed. "With a _gun? _How_ even, _dude? Security here's...-?" Chloe pushed out an exasperated hand in a vague direction, rubbing at her temple with the opposing hand. Puffing out a breath of disbelief, her extended hand fell, clapping against her overall-laden hip.

Max nodded, grumbled out a "I know, I know, but...-" She groaned, double-checking that her nose had calmed down. Yea. Seemed good for now.

Chloe assumed a 'stealth' position against the lower portion of the glass dome, peering over it toward the only entryway to the rooftop.

"Crazy bullshit," Chloe grumbled to herself.

"Hey, you _volunteered _for this," Max pointed out. "I _warned _you that it's been a while..."

"Yea, yea..." Chloe waved a dismissive but conceding hand. "Wish you could go back more than like five fucking minutes so you could tell me to bring _my _gun, 'n then _I _could shoot _her _before she-"  
"Well, I _can't _do that, and we're _not _shooting anyone, Chloe, no one is getting _shot, _so just-"  
"Let's just figure this out, what's about to happen? OK? Can we do that?"

The strained couple let their sizzling tempers cool off a moment before Chloe clutched Max's hand, stroking it in that rushed but delicate way she did, and the situation diffused itself well enough to proceed.

"Someone else is going to show up," Max explained. "But she-...I-I don't know, she's going to disappear before we can get any info out of her. And-...And then we'll have a minute or two before Rachel arrives, and-...Y-Yea, she's _psychotic, _Chloe, you weren't lying."

"The _fuck _is she doing here, even?" Chloe hissed, slapping a palm against the glass.

"You two argued and we _still _couldn't get much of anything out of her, only...-" Max sighed through the wave of achiness that was passing through her body. This ability of hers seems to get a little rougher to recover from each time she pushed it. "Chloe, she _knows _about me."

"That...we're _married? _Yeeee-uh? That happened this afternoon, when you _met _her?"

"No, no. She _knows. _About the Rewind?"

Chloe did a double-take.

"Fucking _how? _'D you _tell _her?"

Tight-lipped, Max shook her head slightly, shrugging wildly.

"Look, I don't know, can we just...-?" Max gestured toward the stairwell entrance.

"Yea. Yea, OK." Chloe tried to put these questions aside as the pair of them tried to scope their chances for an escape. Max wouldn't be able to try her time-trick again for a bit, or if she did, she'd probably only be able to buy a few seconds.

In other words, they had to avoid getting found out by Rachel, straight-up. Given the only, singular exit they had access to, Max was suddenly experiencing something she hadn't in a long time: **fear.**

There weren't any other ways out. If they tried to make a go for the stairs, they were certain to run into Rachel. Max just knew it in her gut. And while Max's power _was _impressive in its own right, it could _not _magic them off of a three story building, and the more times she had to use it in quick succession, the harder it got to use.

"We juss-..._hooo_-..." Chloe's voice cracked in a daze as she wiped sweat from her forehead, her stance wobbling a bit.

Chloe looked suddenly out of breath, hunched over against the concrete propping up the stairwell's door. Damnit, Max _had _pushed it too much with the Rewind, so much so that it was affecting Chloe, too. But what choice did she have?

The rub with Max's ability to control time?

She didn't quite understand _how, _but...Max just _knew_: Chloe was the source of it. Literally.  
Max was _-connected-_with Chloe in a way unlike anyone else she'd even known.  
And Max knew that connection was the source of her power.

It made sense to her that using it put a strain on her own body.  
The human body wasn't...designed to exist outside of how time and space worked.

What did _not _quite make sense to Max, however, was why _Chloe's _body seemed to be getting affected more recently – other than her theory that Chloe was literally the _source _of the ability. Which well, that evening was only proving her theory, given how much easier and more readily she had been able to use her Rewind ability when in proximity of her wife.

But it seemed to be coming at a cost, and Max didn't like it.

Grasping at her stomach as if she were in pain, Chloe sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

"_Rrrgh, _fucking A, man," Chloe huffed under her breath, her body tense. "Did it _always _hurt this bad...?" she posed to Max, trying to make light of her aching.

Max had her theories, of course, as to why her power was having these kinds of effects on them, but she didn't have time to get into this. The door to the stairwell burst open behind them, around the structure's corner, and Max instinctively silenced Chloe from reacting.

While she couldn't see them from this angle, Max remembered who it was: that woman from before – the round-figured, messy-haired blonde woman with the strange device who'd disappeared. The one Rachel must've been...chasing?

Before, however, when they'd attempted to approach her, the woman had immediately disappeared. This time, though, things...went a little differently.

Kind of..._very differently_?

"F-F-..._Frisk?_" stammered out a lispy voice – presumably, the woman's.

'Frisk', as in, Toriel's child? The one Aloy had reported as somehow being at this party? But that made no sense, they were on the _roof, _that kid hadn't-...Oh, was she speaking to them on her phone? Was that who it was?

Giving Chloe a reassuring rub on the shoulder as her wife seemed to regain her composure, Max carefully peeked her head out around the structure's corner.

The woman was going on, "Wh-Wh-...? You shouldn't..._be here, _what if they try to...-?"

Max saw the freckled back of this curious woman, only...she was speaking to an actual _figure, _a fraction of her size.

Standing there at the edge of the building was Toriel's child. No doubt about it. Max had spent enough time scrutinizing those photos of 'Sans' and 'Papyrus' from a while back. She could never get a clear shot of either of those bigger people's faces, but she _knew _she'd recognized this 'Frisk' child, and sure enough...-

Still, though, something was off.

That kid had _not _been on that roof before – the last instance of reality Max had experienced. What the hell was going on? How had they _gotten _there? Had they been hiding all this time, or...-?

What had Max done differently that would've elicited this child to...-?  
HOW had they not noticed that an entire other _person _was-?

Wait.

The kid – Frisk – they were flicking their hands around at the woman, concluding their gesturing by shoving both index fingers off and away – in the direction the woman had thrown her device the last time Max had lived this moment. Sure enough, the woman did the same thing she'd done before: fiddled with her phone, put it away, tossed an odd disc-like object off the building, fiddled with some kind of thing in her hands...and vanished in a colorful blink of lined purple light which trailed off in the direction of the disc.

Frisk was wearing a blue winter jacket with purple stripes across the chest – but the jacket was unzipped for some reason. Beneath it, they wore a yellow shirt with two green stripes, and a golden, heart-shaped locket. They had on a cap, twisted at an angle, and wore a pair of black shorts. _How _was this child not _cold _out here, dressed like that? It was pretty windy out, and some snow still remained sprinkled around the place.

Max snapped a quick photo of the child with her phone, knowing it could prove useful later. Much to Max's alarm, however, Frisk's gaze was now piercing the evening air and cutting right through her.

The child pointed at Max, then opened their hand, tossing it back over their own shoulder.

"..._Wh_...-?"

Max felt the hairs on her back stand up for some reason, and hid her phone away.

This kid was in serious danger. Max needed to do something.

"Frisk?" Max called out, stepping out from behind the stairwell enclosure.

"_Max! _Wh-? The fuck is _that? _This one of those missing kids, 'r-?"  
But Max shooed a hand at Chloe, insisting she calm down.

Hands raised as non-threateningly as she could muster, Max slowly approached the child, whose brown eyes gently reflected the golden glow emanating from the glass dome beside them.

"It's 'Frisk,' right?" Max checked, taking cautious steps. When the child didn't react, Max lowered her hands, putting them in her coat pockets. "You're-...You're Toriel's kid, aren't you?"

The kid looked confused. They shrugged, a bitter expression falling over them. Then they...saluted, sort of...? Or...-? What?

Ah, right. The child was speaking in hands – sign language. Too bad Toriel wasn't around to translate...

"Listen, um...-" Max lingered over the kid, glancing back over her shoulder. Chloe was glaring at her with baffled irritation, but Max held up a finger to her wife. Turning back to Frisk, Max explained, "Frisk? Someone...very dangerous is about to show up, so I need you...to...-"

But Frisk was nodding, pressing the fingertips of a curved hand to their temple.

Max sighed, mumbling, "Sorry, I don't...-"

Frisk went on, rapidly. They pointed at Max first, then took their left hand, palm open, facing inward, gripped it into their right fist, then yanked their left hand up and out of their right fingers, and lastly pointed one index at the back of the opposing wrist.

Wait. Tossing a hand back, pointing at their _wrist, _like...a watch?

Time...being thrown back...? Or...?

Did this _kid _know, too?

But how would this weird _kid _be able to tell?  
Unless they...-

Frisk then pointed at their own chest with their left index finger, made a peace-sign with their left hand, stuck it up toward their eyes, then flicked their wrist outward. They thrust their open palm, facing inward, forward from the side of their head. They concluded this sign language with an affirming nod.

Max wasn't sure what this meant, so she popped up one shoulder, shaking her head slightly, and impatiently.

This was all well and good but Max didn't _understand._

The kid's face dulled a little at Max's lack of interpretation, to which Max's head shrunk a little into her own shoulders as she shrugged squeamishly.

After tossing their head back with impatience and sucking in a harsh breath through the nose, the kid sighed out steam into the bitter winter air. With a flat expression, the kid pulled out a very broken-looking phone, typing away wildly with one hand. With the other, they made a 'Y' shape with their hand and pushed it back and forth between themself and Max, then paused...shrugged, and shook their head, as if reconsidering the notion.

They tapped their thumb at their phone, and it played a text-to-voice, the speaker a bit on the fritz:

[ "͠Y̶ou̸'rè l̛ik͜e̛ ͏m̷e͜.̷"͝ ]͢

Max was _not exactly sure _how to respond, but she couldn't help but assume Frisk was referring to her ability to manipulate time.

The child added a moment later,  
[ "̧Ća͢n̨ y͜ou͜ h͡e̷a̵r ҉th͏em,̶ t̵oo?"͡ ]

Could this child do what Max could do, then?  
Was _that _why they were involved in whatever the hell all of this was?  
Could they be _trusted?_

Wait, wait.

'Hear them, too?' What the hell?

So Max tried to listen.

But Max...couldn't hear _anything_ outside of wind and evening traffic.

"L-Look, uhh...-" Max was trying to find something to say.

"_Max_," Chloe was grunting. "Didn't you say _Rachel _is supposed to show up? What're we-?"

_**-pum-pum-pum-pum-pum-**_

Footsteps against metal stairs. Rachel was coming – fast – and the sound had caused all three of them on the roof to turn dead silent.

Max was at a loss. Glancing at this kid – Frisk – she felt...oddly paralyzed.

She just..._froze up. _Chloe was tugging at her arm, trying to get her to move, but...she couldn't.

She was lost in the glassy eyes of the child.

_Wait.  
_

Their eyes, they were...-  
Weren't Frisk's eyes brown? They were supposed to be brown.

But right then, in that moment, the child's eyes were..._glowing...-_

~ LIGHT BLUE ~Frisk clenched their fist, thrusting it out into an open palm toward Max and Chloe.

And suddenly, Max felt even more nauseous and dizzy than she did already, as if she'd lost balance. She felt herself tipping backward, her hair rushing past her head as she fell...Only she didn't hit the gravel of the roof. She just...kept falling? Without _moving? _Wh...-?

Max was floating.

Her feet were off the ground, her entire _body _was off the ground, she could _feel _some kind of..._tension _against her chest, as if some force was keeping her aloft from _inside _of her. It kind of reminded her of when she...used her Rewind? Only rather than doing the pulling, she was _being _pulled.

In the single moment she processed all of this, she managed to notice that Chloe, too, was alsofloating, beside her – but Chloe was flailing and struggling against this bizarre phenomenon.

"-fucking _shit, _dude?!"

Max, however, felt...strangely trusting of this.

With a glance back toward the roof at Frisk, hand extended, Max understood – the kid was _doing _this somehow.

The child flicked their arm out in a dramatic fashion, and Max felt her entire body _shoved, _pushed, like descending the steepest hill of the tallest roller coaster – before she knew it, she was careening through the air, _off the roof, _Chloe being flung around beside her.

OK, so, um...did not trust this anymore.

She braced herself, thrashing out her right hand, desperate to undo whatever this insanity was. To go backward, to prevent it, but...she _couldn't – _empty in the tank, perhaps?

So.  
Was this it?

Killed by...some psychotic telepathic _child_, blasted from some roof?  
Not exactly a fitting end, she felt, for...-

Oh.  
Oh, they were fine?

They were _fine._

They'd landed on solid ground, so to speak, bruised slightly from rolling against the harsh concrete of the neighboring roof they'd been flung upon, but...oddly safer than their velocity would've dictated.

"Ho-ho-_hohhhh-leeee-__**shit**__,_" Chloe was chuckling, shouting, lost in some state between amazement and trauma. Sprawled on her back, she pumped up her fists, hooping a cheer. "They're like _you, _Max!" Chloe wheezed with excitement. "They're _strange!_"

Max had tried to stand up – perhaps too quickly. All of this craziness, after having pushed her Rewind so much in one evening...it was a lot to handle.

Max could feel her chest turn hollow, her breathing become difficult, her limbs turn to lead.  
She felt-..._oof._

_Ough._

Before she knew it, she'd. . ._fffhh_-

_**-FWUMP-**_

_**"͉̺͎̪̙̪͇̮̥M̨̥͇̗̘̺̻ͅA̵͙̳̗̳̲̬̯̞͝X̶̺̯̤?̷̰̼̙̭̻͖͠!̹̤"͏͓̳͔̗̳̻̣͈ **_

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"Are you serious?" Rachel seethed into her headset, climbing the stairwell in a panic.

[ "Yea! I can _feel _it, there's people up there. And _one _of 'em just did a time jump. Can _feel _that residue lingering around, ya know?" ]

Rachel didn't exactly have a reason to _doubt _Flowey on this – he could see things she couldn't, and there was no way he'd make up this kind of bullshit at a critical moment like this.

Still.

"What can they do?" asked Rachel cautiously. "Who are they?"

[ "Erh-..._Hoo, _you ain't gonna like this...-" ]

"Flowey."

[ "It's those chicks you've got history with. From the restaurant?" ]

Great. Chloe and her time-hopping private eye partner. Rachel had fucking _warned _her to stay away...

[ "Whoa, whoa, wait. They're with the _kid_." ]

_Shit._

"Seven," Rachel uttered the subject's name, looping around the last flight of stairs.

[ "Yep." ]

"Great, _juh-huhst _what we _fucking_ need right now. So where's the target?"

[ "Erh, well-...I've lost track of the Doc, but gimme a sec, n' I'll see if...-" ] He trailed off, doing his thing – trying to find their target.

Flowey was an asshole, but he was a very _useful _asshole to Rachel, because he could see the oddities transpiring in Arcadia. He functioned as Rachel's 'radar' and field support, so to speak.

Rachel burst out of the stairwell and onto the roof, ready to take Alphys into custody, and ready to throw down with this fucking abomination if she had to.

[ "Wait-wait, they-...How did-...? Ah, damnit. Well, good news, yer ex and the PI are...not up there anymore. Bad news? That kid's really gonna try and get in our way." ]  
Flowey was grumbling nonsense – he had a habit of doing this when he was trying to make sense of what was going on.

But as the winter-swept air rushed over her on that rooftop, Rachel didn't see _any_one, save for a single, lone figure, off to the far edge of the building.

Standing precariously over the precipice was the _kid. _Subject Seven.

Subject Seven – aka 'Frisk' – was a freakish, hellish creation that FutureGadget Labs had cooked up in their mad pursuit to harness the bizarre properties inherent to Arcadia. Rachel had been keeping tabs on this unnatural creature, in part because she was being told to by their client, and in part because she was fucking _intrigued._

This 'child' wore masks of its own, and Rachel knew not to take that lightly.  
She knew all too well how deceiving appearances could be.  
But at least she had some semblance of an answer as to how the Doc had gotten skittish: Seven had warned Alphys. For all Rachel knew, Seven had somehow helped Alphys disappear, too. Fuck if _she _knew. Flowey didn't seem able to make up and down of what was happening up here, useless prick.

"There it is," Rachel whispered to Flowey, slowly approaching the monstrosity trapped within a deceptive shell.

[ "Wait-wait-wait, it's Alphys, I think I see her, she's...-" ]

Rachel's hands were trembling, shaking with a mild aching as she readied herself to do whatever she had to. Her right calf began to burn up a little, the pre-emptive cramping before the real heat began...

The kid slowly turned around. They stared at Rachel, wordless. Slowly, Subject Seven reached their right hand into their coat pocket, pulling out an eight inch long blade – a kitchen knife?

Rachel lingered before this supernatural, pint-sized beast. Their head slowly twisted to the side, glancing off at the glass dome. The sudden roar of applause from within as a song finished caused them to squint their eyes shut.

"So, you wanna get in my way, huh?" Rachel posed to this disturbing creature. "I'm not _afraid _of you..."

To this, the child's face eerily mutated into a toothy grin, their eyes opening up wide.

Despite holding her ground, Rachel felt her skin crawl as Frisk's eyes changed color from an unnatural brown to a sickening shade of...-

~ RED ~

A twist of their wrist, and Frisk suddenly pounced forth at Rachel, brandishing the knife.

[ "_FFFFFFFF gimme _a sec, I'll-" ]

_-fwsss!_-

The knife came flying at Rachel at a forty-five degree angle from her left as Seven took a swipe at her. Rachel nimbly sidestepped it, but it sliced her handbag open, spilling out various contents – including the pistol she'd procured for just such an occasion. Not that such a thing would prove to be much use on _this _abomination.

Stumbling backward on sneakers with a spaghetti strap dress and a half-torn handbag – all in the wintry cold on top of a roof, by the way – Rachel was getting real annoyed real quick.

This was supposed to have been an undercover thing. An easy in-and-out job.  
Suffice to say, she had _not _come properly equipped to deal with _this _bullshit.

_-fwsss-fwss!_-

More knife swiping, more dodging, but this time she managed to grab the fucker by the arm, twisting their wrist back and forcing them to drop the knife.

Within Rachel's grip, they didn't...even struggle, though.

They just _grinned, _staring at her with those unnaturally red eyes. Waiting.

"**Flowey**," Rachel growled, all patience gone.

[ "No sudden moves, Amber, just lemme...-" ]

Rachel's muscles tightened as she braced for the impact of the connection to hit. Like a jolt of lighting through her spine, Rachel felt that familiar surge. She was-

_**\- connected -**_

[ "We're set." ]

Rachel's heart skipped. Her jaws locked up, her lungs sucked in air and held it in. Her arms flexed outside of her control, wriggling and writhing for a second until Flowey synced up with her. The child took the opportunity to slip out of her grasp with ease.

A sharp pain suddenly erupted from Rachel's arms as her very skin was quickly peeled off in chunks, thorny vines extending like whips in multiple directions from the openings.

Her 'backup' was finally here, and she'd take all the help she could.

Her arms felt like they were simultaneously on fire yet drowning in wonderfully invigorating adrenaline. She could sense, even understand, her partner's intentions, their wills bonded together as they had been multiple times in the past. She flung her arms to direct his vines at the pesky 'child' before them.

But Subject Seven's eyes shifted color again, shimmering a deep shade of...-

~ DARK BLUE ~

With ease, Frisk jumped – exceedingly high – flipping up and over, dodging Rachel and Flowey's thorny-vined onslaught entirely. Stunned at this display, Rachel was jarred by the thunderous applause that quaked the building she stood upon.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

"All right, everyone!" cheered Shantae from the staircase's plateau, qwelling the clapping down in volume. "I've got one more song for you tonight, and it's a fan favorite~" She paused, letting a few folks hoop and holler out. "Now, I know things are tough here right now, but if we don't let ourselves have a good time we let those monsters win, and we _sure _aren't letting that happen, right?!" The audience agreed. "Well _OKAY, _then! Are we all **RET. 2. GO?!**"

A cacophony of cheers erupted from the hall, thunderously rumbling the glass dome on the roof.

"Let's _transform_ tomorrow into a better place~!"

Shantae snapped her fingers, bounced her hips from side to the side, and the music began.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

As Frisk landed from their ridiculous, needlessly flashy maneuver, they skidded across the roof's gravel effortlessly. With a grunt that sounded almost like a _laugh, _they stood upright, twisting their cap backwards on their head.

The front, now facing backward, read { MERCY}.  
The back, now facing forward, read { FIGHT}.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Shantae, the smooth-skinned, sparkly-eyed performer, was gyrating her hips with hypnotic precision, her arms tossing her bushy ponytail aloft as she sang lasciviously into her microphone.

"They say we live in the darkness  
They say there's trouble ahead"

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Squaring off with Subject Seven, Rachel eyed the pistol near her feet. She took note that the knife she'd wrested from the creature's hand was gone – and as Seven tossed said knife up with their left hand, catching it playfully with their right, Rachel knew this wasn't going to be easy.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"Every day there's sorrow: today, tomorrow"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

'Frisk's' sadistic smile returned as they charged forward, their eyes flashing color again:

~ RED ~

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"But I'm dancing, instead"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Rachel, with Flowey's help, unleashed a barrage of thorned vines, weaving her arms like a conductor gone mad to thrash them about in a cluster of slicing strikes.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"'Cause I can dance through the danger"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

To Rachel's dismay, Seven effortlessly dodged every strip of spiked vegetation – the child was using their knife to snap back at the vines. Disconnected pieces instantly turned to gray dust, scattering to the wind.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"The magic flows through my Soul"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Rachel had intentionally left a few of her vines out, ready to clap them inward and cut off the beast's advance. A snap of her wrists brought the vines flying inward, surely too many to be cut or dodged in time, and yet...-

~ ORANGE ~

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"All around, it's seeming in the dream I'm dreaming"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

It all happened in a fraction of a second – Rachel watched her vines _pass clear through _Frisk's body, as if the child had become ethereal – all the while the pesky creature was pouncing at her with a mean jab, right to her gut.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"a better day  
can't be far away"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Caught off guard by the sudden burst of brute force, Rachel was sent spiraling through the air.

[ "hold on hold o on n!" ]

Rachel let her airborne body go limp as she tried to process what the _fuck _was even going on with this irritating child.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"So I will dance through the danger  
And fly away to the stars"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Suddenly, she felt the tattoo on her right calf _ignite, _searing her nerves with a familiar, strangely welcomed pain. Flowey had seemingly summoned this other force for more aid.

[ "Sera! _DO SOMETHING!_" ]

_Sera...?!_

Rachel wasn't sure _how _Flowey had summoned her here so suddenly, but she could _feel _Sera's presence.

Wordless as ever, Sera _**-connected-**_with Rachel in an instant – not the way Flowey did. With him it was like a phone call, _this _was more like a hand on her shoulder. A cold hand.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"Take my lead and I'll start it to the beat of my heart"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Rachel _felt _Sera's presence aiding her as her body began to fall down the side of City Hall.

She thrust her arms out, fingers _gripping _at invisible strings.

A cyclone of wind encapsulated her in a flash, re-orienting her upright.

And then that lovely, _wonderful _intensity _splashed _itself through Rachel's arms and out through her hands: a burst of flame.

That delicious _**fire. **_So potent, so intense, that when combined with the rush of air she controlled, her body was propelled upward and onward, arriving back on the roof.

_Thanks for the assist, _Rachel thought, wondering if Sera was even listening – and wondering _how _she had 'shown up' so quickly. Her sister's doing?

But as Rachel tucked and rolled her landing, whipping her hair back over her neck, she huffed through her teeth at Frisk, knowing that answers would have to wait.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"I'll never give up in my fight 'til the future is bright"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Frisk was still just as eerily cheerful as before. They snapped their fingers, and as their eyes changed color again -

~ PURPLE ~

Rachel was appalled at how their form _tripled. _Two copies of themselves split off from either side of Frisk's body. Was this an illusion? Rachel wasn't going to risk it.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Her hands quivering and sore from the flames she'd just expelled, Rachel knew she'd have to buy Sera some time before they could belt out another blast of fire. As the three forms of Frisk came dashing toward her, Rachel changed gears, relying on Flowey's vines once again. Her already stinging arms were swept up by another wave of pain as the surreal whips of spiny vegetation punctured their way through realities once again and out from Rachel's skin.

_Sera,_ Rachel thought, trying to commune, _are you __**there?**_

But Flowey spoke instead, grunting through the vine-lashing that seemed to miss the aggravating child's dopplegangers.

[ "She says your _sister _sent her?" ]

Rachel's brows lowered, her eyelids sagging with irritation. Of course it had been _her. _But the damned woman had no idea what Rachel was up to, or else she might've refrained from sending over help.

At least it made sense how Sera had gotten there so quickly. How Rachel's fucking sister had known about all of this was a matter to deal with later, but Rachel suspected it had to do with the _goddess fucking damned monster _in front of her what the _shit _how could she not land a _single fucking strike _on the annoying prick why was nothing HITTING THIS PRICK?!

The purple-eyed trio of Frisks were practically flaunting themselves, weaving and bobbing around every attempt Rachel and Flowey made to capture or even land a blow against them.

_Screw this, _Rachel decided, shaking her still shaky hands loose. _I'm going for it._

[ "_Eurgh-! _She s..s th.t's ..ybe no. a ..od ide.!" ]

The connection with Flowey was breaking. Rachel couldn't juggle both.

But Rachel didn't care, she needed to end this as quickly as she could. Alphys was gone, but if they could capture Subject Seven? That would be even _more _valuable.

Rachel goaded Frisk to "Dodge _this_ shit!" as she charged heat back into her hands, dissolving Flowey's vines away into dust and ash yet again.

Joining her wrists together, she flicked her hands outward toward the three grinning Frisks. With this she gestured, she unleashed a flash of fire so wide Frisk would have to move upward, giving Rachel space.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"So we will dance through the danger"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

The blast had caused Frisk to go soaring into the air, but, even upside down and airborne, the child wasn't powerless. Their eyes flashed again –

~ YELLOW ~

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"Together we'll never fail"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

-and suddenly, they had a revolver pistol in their hand. A fucking _gun, _now?  
How much shit did this creepy kid keep in their otherworldly pockets?

Rachel barely had enough time to react, rolling out of the way as a quick-fire hammer-fan of six shots ricocheted off the roof behind her.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"We will forge a path to our destiny"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Having prepared her counter-attack as she'd dodged this enemy fire, Rachel whirled around, flinging a condensed fireball with unnatural accuracy toward where Frisk was falling.

But the kid's eyes had changed color again.

~ GREEN ~

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"I ask you to dance with me, so the world can see"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

The gun was gone, now replaced with a metal _shield_. Like, a fucking medieval _shield._

Fuck's sake.  
Rachel's fireball was absorbed without incident, the child landing effortlessly and giving her a cocky smile as it did so.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"That we can dance through the danger  
Together, we will set sail"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Amber was _so done with this bullshit._

[ ". .. .. . . .. . . . .. .. !" ]_  
_Flowey was still trying to communicate, but the connection was too distant now.  
Like tuning to a different radio frequency, Rachel was making the signal between her and Sera as clear as possible. Sera's influence enabled her to tap into herself, and she needed forces of nature more than fucking _flowers _and _vines._She sucked in a deep breath, feeling her lungs burn as if filling with smoke. Her calf ached fiercely, its dragon tattoo stinging with intense pain.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"For a time and space with a faster pace"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

With an animal-like snarl, Rachel swiped out her arms, fire billowing forth from the palms. Licks of flame leaked out through the many vine-punctured holes in her skin, but the pain didn't matter to her.

**\- Rachel. Is there really a point to this? -**

_Just do your job, Sera._

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"Seeing the world as a happier place"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Rachel pelted a flurry of flames, only for each to be negated in one way or another.

**\- My job is to be your- -**  
_Your job's to protect me! So fucking __**do that!  
**__It's why she sent you here.  
It's why you came._

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"Yes, we can dance through the danger"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

The damned monster was avoiding every attack Rachel sent at it.  
It was like this was some dance they'd rehearsed perfectly.  
And for all Rachel knew, they _had._

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"And fly away to the stars"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

**\- This fire? It's yours. Not mine. -  
\- You're burning. You keep letting yourself burn. -**

_And who's fault is that?!_

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"Come along, don't miss this  
'Cause I know that this is our time"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

A shield to block flames, a gun to stop Rachel from closing in, and a multitude of ways to evade her every move. This unholy 'child' was a force that needed to be contained, no matter the cost. It was out of FutureGadget's control now, she had to do _something._

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"So we will dance through the danger  
Together, we will set sail"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

As Rachel whipped winds and flames uselessly at the inhuman creature before her, Rachel made a choice – she'd just have to take another loss. Nothing she hadn't done before. If she could bring the kid down _with _her, then...-

**\- No matter how many times I bring you back, Rachel... -  
\- It won't fix what's wrong with you. -**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"For a time and space with a faster pace"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_Nothing's wrong with me.  
It's this fucking city that's the problem._

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"Seeing the world as a happier place"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_There's only one way to fix this, and destroying this abomination is the first step._

Her back pinned up against the glass dome of the roof, Rachel funneled all of her energy into her arms, into her hands, the scars and wounds on her skin leaking out steam. left an opening – intentionally – and Frisk plunged itself at her like a mechanical wildcat, its knife drawn as its eyes shimmered an intense shade of

~ RED ~

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**  
"Yes, we can dance through the danger  
And fly-"  
**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Frisk collided with her, pounding her back into the glass so hard that it cracked. Pressing against her and swiping at her like a mad beast, its wild eyes and rabid smile were unsettling. Rachel pushed and scrabbled her limbs at the crazed creature, her body aching more and more all the while.

Her arms were **burning. **Her hands were glowing, now. The very air around her grew thin.

She made to push Frisk off of her, but the child foresaw this and dodged her gesture. No matter. The 'child' took another dive at her, the speed and distance it jumped bearing an inhuman speed and distance. Its eyes glinted through the night.

~ DARK BLUE ~

Rachel tightened her trembling fists.

In mid-flight toward her, Frisk gained a maniacal glint in its eye,  
~ RED ~  
and its knife was raised as it flew across the roof.

It was her moment to strike.

As Frisk sailed through the air at her, she thrust her hands outward. She unleashed the pent up power she'd been building. Searing flames traveling on razor wind swirled out of her arms, hissing out of the pores created by Flowey's vines.

-KREESSHHHKKK!-

The force had been so explosive, the glass dome behind her gave way, half of its shell shattering into shards around the two of them. As Rachel fell backward through the roof of City Hall, Frisk's momentum had it falling toward her, a small tornado of fire and glass swirling around her, nicking at her feet, her legs, her elbows, her hair. There had been so much chaotic danger flying around, surely Frisk was-

~ ORANGE ~

_WHAT?!_

Frisk was _passing clear through _her explosion. _Untouched.  
_The pair were falling through City Hall, and everything felt as if it were moving in slow motion.

Frisk was mere feet away from her. She didn't know _how _this fucker had eluded such a wild card move, but Rachel wasn't giving up. As Frisk drew close during their fall, Rachel reached out to grab it, to try and crush it during the fall, to pin it to-

~ GREEN ~

As if _seeing her move coming, _Frisk's eyes changed color _again, _in a split second's notice, and Rachel's hands uselessly collided against its unnaturally appearing metal shield. Frisk flipped its body round, _kicking _its small feet off of Rachel's stomach.

Sparks, air, glass, all pushing against her skin, Rachel was falling, Frisk falling right behind her, its shield vanishing as  
~ RED ~  
that damned _knife _came out again.

_Fuck. _She'd messed up. It was like whatever she tried, this abomination could see it coming.

In the final milliseconds before her body collided with the marble lobby floor, Rachel's vision focused past Frisk. Past the glass and fading sparks above. Past the clouds beyond. What little she could see of the night sky was starless. The stars were blurred out by the night light cast by this fucking city.

She would see a night sky full of stars, some way, some how.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\  
**

Having scanned City Hall's main lobby as this musical performance had begun, Lena found herself frustrated and confused. She caught her mate Fareeha escorting some dame out the front door. Went to wave, say 'hi' and all that, but Fareeha were too occupied, looked like.

Not a sign of Toriel's kid, but _everything _had been pointing right at this location. Lena could feel it in her bones – something odd were happening.

At about the worst timing she could've picked, Lena's attention was diverted from her task toward a pair of folks arguing down a hallway. Some bald guy with a 'stache was wrestling with some young lady in a fancy silver dress. Were really havin' a go at each other, weren't they?

Hallway looked empty otherwise, everyone too excited about this eccentric singer and all. Shoulda been a guard posted – ahhh, right, must've been Fareeha's sector. Welp. Lena oughtta help cover the slack, then, eh?

The younger, feminine one had...bloody _pounced _on the bald chap, was clawing at his face with her sharpened fingernails!

"Oi!" Lena called out, but it wasn't acknowledged.

"-think you can..._ruin _what we have? _Huh?_"

Sounded right miffed at the guy, she did, and she gave him a hard smack to his face.

"Hey!" Lena tried to call again, making her way over. Wasn't running as she didn't want to draw attention to this-...well, _whatever _this was.

Coughing, the chap said something Lena couldn't hear on account of the music behind her.

"_Fuck _you!" shouted the lady, pounding her fists against his chest.

"...Heh."

Way the bald guy was smiling and laughing, though, made Lena feel proper weird. It was like he was _enjoying _having his mustached mug smacked round.

"_Blimey! _Oi, you!" Lena cried out, reaching the scuffle and tearing the dressed woman off of the man on the floor. "What's all this about, eh?"

Shoving Lena's grip off of her, the woman with green highlights in her hair was in tears, and pushed her hands against a wall as she leaned over to take a breath. Cor, was this about the sick person Fareeha had been escorting?

Chuckling and coughing up a bit of blood, the bald man swatted Lena's hand away when she offered to help him up.

"This _girl _is unstable," the man said warily to her, but with a smirk on his face. "Can't say it bothers me that much, to be honest..." He wiped blood off his lip with his sleeve, staining his shirt. "But she might be a _danger _to others."

"What is your _problem _with me?!" the woman snapped at him, swiping an irate hand through the air at him.

The man replied with sadistic smirk, "_I _know what you _were. _What you_ are._"

Bloody hell, there were better things for Lena to be worrying about, but she couldn't leave these two without doing something, right?

"Oi, _what's_ going on here?" Lena repeated, her patience about worn out. "_Why're _you two at each other's throats?"

She got two answers at once.

"This asshole slipped _drugs _into my girlfriend's drink!"  
"This bitch is blaming me for _her _mistakes!"

_Hoo _gosh, Lena was not at all in the mood for this. Was immediately regretting stepping in on this.

She weren't equipped for this! De-escalation, she wasn't good at this! Complete rubbish at this nitty gritty cop stuff! Why was she even still _here? _A bloody _fraud _in a blue suit, she were, floppin' about like a magikarp out of water, useless upon useless, couldn't even decided how to handle a single bloody dispute, how in farore's name could she be expected to-

"Yes, we can dance through the danger  
And fly-"  
-KREESSHHHKKK!-

Shantae's song ended a bit prematurely as an explosion rattled the building. The sound of a rainfall of glass could be heard off in the main lobby, along with a sickening _**-FWUMP-.**_

"What-?!"  
"The hell?!"

Lena would have to leave this lot to their squabbling. Whatever had just caused that explosion, were probably the reason Lena had come here in the first place.

As she made a dash for the main hall, Lena saw enough blood, heard enough screaming, that she knew she had to act, had to do something to prevent it.

Merely an hour or so after getting topped up and she was _already _needing to utilize her hidden talent.

Oh, right.

Lena Oxton, you see, could manipulate time.

A unique trait, right? Something surely no one else could do.

So Lena had thought for some while.

Recent events had been shifting this viewpoint, however – such as her and Aloy's pursuit of the Los Muertos members days back when they'd taken Toriel's kid. She'd _used _her abilities, and yet even so, they'd _still _eluded her tracing their position.

See, Lena Oxton could tap into a strange source within herself – using the medallion Dr. Harold Winston had created as a go-between – and she could manipulate time. She could pull herself backward through it, and she could even freeze it around her for a bit, effectively allowing her to move at lightning fast speed in short bursts.

So, yea. Lena could time travel, to a point.

Ah, right. Something she ought make use of at a moment such as the one she found herself in.

Focusing herself and finding her center, Lena drew from the energies in her medallion.

She _**-connected-**_ with the part of her she needed to.

Her medallion, stuffed in her shirt, hanging round her neck, vibrated against her chest.

She flung herself backward.

̓ͪ͋ͪ̈̍̒̒̆ ̶̍ͩͯ̀̐͐͋̚ ̷̂ ͧ̓̐͌ͯ̈̓̿̎̿͗̑ͧ̉͞

"͌ͥͯ̎Ẅ́h̑ͣ̔͆̎͑͒atͤ̋ ͬ̋ͩ̔͑̚iͩͪ́ś̏̇ͫ ͦ͐ͭ̎͗̈́y̓͌ͮͤ͂o̓ͩͪ̉͊̏ȗͯͫ̔̌ͮ̈r̈ͫ̒ͤͩ̃̓ ͫͨ_p̒̌̉̄̉̂̆r̔̒̀͑o̓ͣͥb͂̓̄l̓͒͑̋̂ͧ̑e̍ͧ̍̋͊m̋͂_ ̏w͌̍͌̃iͪͧͭͫ̍t̀ͩ̿̾̚ȟ͌̓͐͛ͣ͊ ͭ̍ͮͪ̌̓̿m̑ͣ̈́̆̓͑e̚?ͨͨ̋̊́̃!̒͆̽ͭ̀"̽ͥ̋̅ͭ  
"_Iͮ̅̅͋_ ͆k͒no͊̓ͪͪ̂̂̂w ͤẘh͛̌̾̐ͩ̇̚aͮ̑ͤ̅́̿t͑͐̌̏͊ͨ ̉͂͊̓ͪ͐y͋ͪ͋o̊ͣ͐u̍ͥ _w̆̌̓̚eͨr̿̈́ͨe̅͌̍̚_.ͫ͐̂̐ͥ̓ ͂Wͦ̇ḧ́̏ͩͯ̆͊ͣa͗ͩ̄̄̾̋t̊̓̎̌͆̒̅ yoͬ̉ͨ̇ͨͮu̅̋̍̓ͫͪ͐ ͪ̄̊̽_a̋͌̌r͌e͊ͮ͐͑.ͩ_"ͬ̈̈͛ͭ

Lena could hear these words between those two bickering tossers behind her as she sprinted back down the hall. Only had a few seconds, so she'd have to push through the queasy stomach she had and use her other talent to get the job done.

Her medallion shuddered against her skin, a shock of electricity rushing through her.

Time froze around her, but Lena ran forward – felt like running through water – and reached the crowd, just time for-

-KREESSHHHKKK!-

_Gah, _this whole day was going to pot, wasn't it?  
Lena blinked through time again – pushing some civilians out of the line of glassfall – and pulled her trick a third time for good measure, getting stragglers out of the way.

Never seemed able to go beyond three pulses in a row, her head would always get too faint trying that. And even after three, her medallion began to burn up.

On the third go, she stumbled a bit, rolling against the tiled floor with the last pedestrian in her arms.

The rainfall of glass shards sprinkled itself against the floor behind her, eliciting a flurry of gasps and cries as that sickening _**-FWUMP-**_accompanied the glass.

Pushing herself up from the dazed civilian she'd saved, Lena scrambled to see what had fallen through the domed roof.

The body of a woman in a red dress was mangled against the hall's floor, limp and lifeless in a slowly growing pool of blood, seeping into the spaces between the marble floor tiles.

Hunched over the bloodied and battered form was none other than Toriel's child, its hands wrapped around a knife that had been plunged right through the woman's heart. The child's eyes were glowing a bright, gut-twisting shade of

~ RED ~

Lena was speechless.

The purple-haired singer on the stairs was escorted up and away, down a hallway on the second floor. The speaker system spat out jarring feedback from the mic stand being knocked over, but the sound was quickly cut in the chaos that followed.

The gala rapidly devolved into a hurricane of chaos as the party-goers were reasonably alarmed by the sight of all this.

"Frisk?!" Lena called out to the child, simultaneously aghast and afraid of what the seemingly innocent kid was evidently capable of. "The _bloody _hell...?"

Frisk yanked their knife out of the woman's corpse without difficulty, and blood spattered out against the tiled floor from the jerking motion. The look in their eyes calmed from red to brown.

Then, Frisk began to do something altogether confusing (as if this all weren't confusing enough!) they began running their hands across the woman's abdomen, as if they were...looking for something she carried?

"_Oi!_" Lena cried out, making a dash for the kid. When Frisk looked up at them, bam, bloody eyes had gone all red again! Lena had to stop whatever this was.

But within the single second she spent running toward them, there was that bloody knife, suddenly heading straight for Lena's face.

Right, then. Back she went.

̡͆͊̇̚ ̴̃͑ͧ͑̎̈́̈̉̌͆ ̵̧̀̒ͦ̓͗̎̿ͧ̆͋ͬ̾̚ ͋ͤ̅ͨ͞ ͂̈́̊̅̿ͥͩ͒̿̌͌͠

T͈̬̖͔͚h̲͎̬̭̖ḛ ̮̹͓͎̥̹g̘̘͖̪a̟l͉͎̲̥a̠̠̙͎͍͙ ̦̗̰̠ͅr͙̻͈̻̣̤a̦̻p̲͇̰̺̘͓ͅi̱̙͓̦d̗l̼y̮͎̭̳ d͍͚e̻̫͎v͔̘o̤͚̞̳͙̩̦l̰̫̣̗̯v̮̦̜̤̜̙ed̠͎̣̤̙ ̮̻͚̥̠ị̹̩̯̫̞n̻to̹̼̭ ̬̥͈̜̮ͅa̩̥̜̫̰ ͉̪͈̯̼h̫u̯rri͖̦c̻̹a̺n͚e̻̯͕̲̻̞͓ ̜̠̰̰̮̥̜o̜͚f͚ ̭̙̹͙̩ͅc̟̣̦͍̦͓̮h̼̠͖̯̺a̤̱̣̪̪ͅo̦̪ͅs͇͕̟̱ a͓̯͍͓̮s͕ t̙̙͚̪ͅh͖e͕̣͇̻̥ ̪̱̻͙͕͖̙p̗̞̮̬̞͇ͅa͍͖̟̯̩r̺ͅt͚̳͙y͔-̹̘̹̙͕g̟̱̫̞ͅo̫̝̹̣̙͓er̦s͖̜ ̪̤̤w̬er͍͉̙e̞̲͉̰ͅ ̙͓͚̥̖̼r̲̦̩̥̞e̞̼̯̘a͇͍̠̗̰͖̥s͓̟̗̰̝̗̲on͙̺ably͈ ͓̖͔̱̘ͅa͚̺̯̳̬͖l̮̱̰̲a͖r̼̺͕ͅm̙̬̥̖̪̙͚ed ̘̳͉̪b̳̱͈͔̮̪̼y̭̹̜̤ ̺̲̟t̳h̦̟̬̮e̱ ̳̞͕ͅsi̤̭̺͔̲̤g̜̝̮͉͚͉ht.

Having flung herself back in time a few seconds again – were only as far as Lena ever seemed able to go – Lena was not at all sure how to proceed. Her medallion was hot from all this energy, her heart was racing, her head was getting faint, and her stomach felt like she'd throw up any moment.

But she had to do what she could.

"Frisk!" she tried to call out again, coughing in a daze as the kid pulled their knife out once again. This time, when she received that spooky red-eyed look, something were different about it. The kid _smiled. _Had they done that last time? Nah...

As the sound of party-goers making a dash for it died down, Lena could hear the security guards on duty scrabbling around, readying their firearms.

"Oxton?!" It was Fareeha.

"Amari," Lena acknowledged, not sure where the woman was but not keen on taking her eyes off this disturbed child.

"No sudden moves!" Fareeha commanded, and Lena wasn't sure who it applied to but assumed the both of them.

Frisk's head tilted slightly. Like they were _waiting _for Lena to do something.

But bloody hell, she weren't in the mood to get a damn knife in her.

Blimey, she didn't like where this was going.

Frisk's eyes had gone back to normal again, and they went back to...er, _frisking _this poor corpse. The woman was in a _dress, _not like there were many places to _look, _what was...-?

"Drop the weapon!" Fareeha commanded, her voice echoing across the hall as officers slowly closed in.

With a spiteful glare – more annoyed than threatened – Frisk held out their hand slowly and dropped the knife. It clattered to the marble floor, the gentle clanging deafening in the moment.

But Frisk went right back to searching the body.

"Step away from the body!" Lt. Amari ordered. "Put your hands behind your head!"

Lena felt awkward, sticking her own hands up and slowly backing away. She didn't have any orders, here. Hadn't been given any, either. Wasn't supposed to _be _here, really.

But Frisk wasn't listening. Was ruddy _ignoring _the Lieutenant, even with all these guns pointed right at 'em!

Things got a bit weirder. Of course they did. Why wouldn't they?

Frisk had stopped their search, and was holding out one of their hands, palm out. Their eyes had gone all wonky again, changing colors.

~ LIGHT BLUE ~

The corpse _moved. _Shuddered. It was like it were being _pulled at _from the inside. Whatever the kid was looking for, it seemed to find – out from the open stab wound in the woman's chest, a glowing..._something _popped out. Popped right out, all golden and shining, what in...-?

Bloody _odd _thing happened as Frisk held this weird glowy bit in their hands. Ah, wait.

A flower? What in...-?

They'd pulled a _flower _out of this dead lady's chest. Golden petals, like the lady's hair. Frisk was _staring _at the flower, like they were waiting. Still didn't seem to give a care about all the guns pointed at 'em, either, but at least their eyes had gone back to normal.

"_Back away from the body_," Fareeha said again, louder this time.

Suddenly, every cell phone on everyone present – including Lena's, from her pocket – all began screaming with the same voice. Like they were all suddenly part of some creepy sodding conference call.

[ "PLEASE! I didn't-...I wasn't trying to pull anything on you!" ]

But something told Lena this phone call was for the kid standing over the corpse. They sure seemed like they were listening, all while staring at some...weird little shiny thing in their hand.

[ "The, uh-...Yea, I mean, I played with you a little, but that was just to get you to come OUT, ya know? Now, we can-...We can be together again! A-All right?! That's exciting!" ]

Frisk took the flower they'd found and folded it up into a...mushed up...not-so-happy flower. The voice on the phones got all crazy.

[ "W-WAIT, WAIT! I CAN STILL BE USEFUL TO YOU!" ]

Frisk opened the golden heart-shaped locket round their neck, stuffed the crushed up flower inside, and closed it.

[ "I CAN STILL BE-" ]

The call died out, and the entire hall went all eerily quiet again.

The security detail, spread throughout the hall, was murmuring utterances of confusion.

"For the _last time,_" Fareeha cried out, "back away from the body with your hands behind your head, or we will be forced to subdue you!"

Lena did _not _like the smile Frisk took on at these words.

"I don't think they're gonna listen to you!" Lena advised, continuing to cautiously make her way back.

"_Oxton,_" Fareeha grunted, grabbing Lena's shoulder and tugging her inward. "_What _are you doing here? Where's Nora? Who _is _this?"

Her face beginning to sweat as she started to shake like a leaf from all of this pent up tension in the lobby, Lena attempted to reply.

"I-I don't know, Lieutenant, it's-...That, um, it's a missing kid we've been looking for, only I didn't know-"  
"-_got a gun!_"

But before she could finish, the whole room had gotten flustered.

Frisk had...pulled out a _gun _from somewhere?

Was a bloody _revolver, _where'd a kid like this even _get _some kind of old gun like that?

Blimey, and their eyes had changed again.

~ YELLOW ~

"Permission to engage?" asked a jumpy officer.  
"_Denied_," Fareeha replied, scanning the lobby carefully.

But nobody lowered their weapons.

And Frisk just _held _their gun at their side, like some blooming _cowpoke _ready to quick-draw.

Lena's medallion was still a bit too hot, her stomach too uneasy. She couldn't try any of her tricks for a bit yet – not anything big enough to settle this all down.

_Where _had that kid pulled a _gun _from? Lena had been watching the whole time, hadn't even reached for their pockets, or anything! Least, she would've sworn...

Uh-oh. This loonie kid was making to shoot at Fareeha. Why was she standing her ground? Why wasn't she-?! _Bugger _all, Lena would have to-

**-bang**-

Lena had shoved Fareeha over sideways, tackling her to the ground. Way she saw it, worse came to worse, she could just force herself backward, only...-

_-tik-ti-tikkt-  
-clakt-ssss. . .-_

Wait, what?

Struggling to her feet, and helping Fareeha do the same, Lena realized that...no one was bleeding.

Frisk wasn't holding the gun anymore. Had been knocked out of their hand, hit the floor.

"Thanks," Fareeha said solemnly but softly, giving Lena a rough pound on the back with her palm. Stepping forward boldly, Fareeha was looking up toward the top floor of the hall.

Blimey.

It was Aloy up there, smoking pistol in her hands. She'd shot a bloody _gun _out of that kid's hands, at _that _distance? Crikey, really _was _a good shot, wasn't she? Lena had been so focused on the kid, she hadn't even noticed her gal up there. Made Lena feel even more foolish than she already did.

Gesturing her fingers at the kid to signal her officers to go in to subdue Frisk, Fareeha talked into her shoulder walkie.

"At ease, Nora. Good work."

From her perch up top, Aloy responded through the walkies, [ "How's that saying go again? 'Justice rains from above?'" ]

At this, Fareeha chuckled quietly, shaking her head. She answered, _"Ff. _It's been a long time since I've heard anyone say _that _one...Before you know it, we'll-"

"_WAUGH-!_"  
"_HULGH-!_"

And just as quickly as everyone had calmed down, everything went all tense again.

Something had happened with the kid when the officers went to cuff him, looked like.

Frisk was...just _gone_. Cops had gotten shoved off, seemed, but...-

"Where's the target?" Fareeha asked, instantly putting her serious face right back on as she stomped toward the field of glass surrounding the poor corpse.

With a wary sigh, Lena left her fellow coppers to do what they did. Even when she could bloody _time travel, _she felt off about all of this. Didn't feel right, trying to be something she wasn't, did it? She kept trying, kept following her orders best she could, but...-

_Agh, _bloody hell, civies were starting to come back inside, find out what was up.

Lt. Amari ordered Oxton, Nora, and a couple others to maintain the perimeter, keep civilians out, start cordoning off the scene.

Fareeha didn't know exactly who the attacker had been, why they had been there, why they had murdered some poor woman in cold blood, or _how _they had vanished.

But Lt. Amari knew _damn _well that it was connected to whatever her mother kept hiding from her.  
All the more reason to get Helix up and running as soon as possible. If anything, perhaps this incident could serve as the final nail in the coffin she needed to get out from under Ana's thumb and start operating on a level that Arcadia seemed to require.

In the meantime, Amari still had to follow chain of command, down both avenues.

She ordered another pair to conduct a thorough search of the building and advise her of anything they found. She put out an APB on the child, who Oxton and Nora had identified as 'Frisk.' Given that the knife and gun the child had been holding had vanished as strangely as the kid itself had, Amari advised that the child was not only dangerous, but likely still armed. She called up Ana – her Captain first, Mother second – and reported on the situation.

She was distracted during her report by some manner of _bird _that began flying about the place. Damned _hole _through the roof...all of this glass everywhere...This was going to take all night to get sorted. They couldn't just leave the hall's roof exposed like that.

[ "Lieutenant?" ] came Ana's stiff impatience.

"Sorry. Ma'am. There's a lot to take in here, I...-"

[ "Then _take it in_. I'll arrange a press conference for tomorrow for you to address this. I'll report back shortly on what our official statement will be." ]

_Damnit, Mother, I don't-..._

"Yes, Ma'am."

Ana hung up.

Fareeha, who had been watching as this brightly-feathered bird perched itself on a ston guard rail above, was caught off guard by a voice from the main stairwell.

"Wh-Whuh-...What _was _that?! Was that really Frisk?!"

_Gah. _It was the Mayor's lap dog, Isabelle Shizue, fumbling her way from upstairs. What was she still doing in here?

"Miss Shizue," Fareeha sighed, approaching the small-statured woman with a dismissive gesture, "_Please _stay away from the crime scene. _What_ are you still doing here?"

"Th-That's...-" The poor woman was clearly in a bit of shock. "I was-...My friend's _child..._How-? How could they...-?"

"I am sorry you witnessed this, Ma'am," Fareeha spit, her tone robotic as she had work to do. Easing the stammering secretary toward the entrance of City Hall and away from the scene, Fareeha dropped her off with Nora to be questioned before re-approaching the scene.

Drawing close to the body, which one of her officers confirmed was, in fact, deceased, Amari advised them to note the time of death.

But just as they went to do so, the body's eyes opened. Those eyes leaked out smoke.

This seeming corpse of a woman startled everyone present as its mangled limbs popped and snapped while it rose upward. Hunched over its knees, golden hair veiling its face, the body opened its mouth, more smoke billowing from it maw, and

it _**screamed.**_

It was the most distressing and ear-piercing sound Fareeha had ever heard. It wasn't just a shriek, it was a _scream_, and it went on for seconds. The woman's body _burst _into flames and she kept on screaming.

So loud and surreal, the prolonged utterance of terror rendered everyone stunned, the very air in the hall swirling and whipping up a frenzy, like a freak storm had suddenly swept in through the broken roof.

When the noise finally settled, and the wind died down, Fareeha and her officers were able to regain their bearings.

But just like the ominous child they'd just encountered, so, too, had the victim of its attack vanished, leaving behind a trail of ashes being swept up and out through the roof, toward the winter evening sky above. Not even a trace of the woman's blood remained.

Irritable and bewildered at the same time, Fareeha's officers were not nearly as fazed as they had once been at such a sight, and neither was Fareeha herself.

Pulling out her phone, she called up Chief of Police Jack Morrison.

[ "Lieutenant?" ] he gruffly greeted her.

Watching her own hair flicker to a stop as the winds died down around her, Amari spoke simply to him.

"City Hall. We've had another incident. At _City Hall, _Sir. Dozens of witnesses."

[ "_Mm._" ] He sounded tired. She could hear his sigh, _visualize _him running her fingers against the bags beneath his eyes. [ "Any civilians?" ]

"I believe they all escaped before..._well_...before anything _dire _transpired."

[ "Good. Follow protocol. You know the drill." ]

"Roger that. But, Sir, I'd like to request an emergency meeting to re-evaulate how we're-"  
[ "One thing at a time, Lieutenant. We'll adjourn tomorrow." ]

He wasn't stone-walling her this time, at least. Fareeha could practically _smell _the reconsideration in his voice. She on the cusp of getting her request granted, she could feel it. She just had to keep things up a little longer. Watching the bird who had distracted her earlier find its way out through the gaping hole in the building's roof, Fareeha took a breath, unsure of what to say to the Chief.

[ "That is all, Amari." ]

"Understood."

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_**-FWUMP-**_**  
****  
**_**"͉̺͎̪̙̪͇̮̥M̨̥͇̗̘̺̻ͅA̵͙̳̗̳̲̬̯̞͝X̶̺̯̤?̷̰̼̙̭̻͖͠!̹̤"͏͓̳͔̗̳̻̣͈ **_After her encounter with Rachel, Max had found her ability to Rewind time prove to be more difficult than usual – almost like someone _else _had also been tugging and twisting the name aspect of reality she had been. She'd passed out, but had come to some place...that didn't look right.

She was dreaming.

She knew she was dreaming. She had experienced this dream – or at least, dreams _like _it – multiple times before.

After all, the sky was not swathed in green grid lines, and the city she inhabited was not a collection of archaic purple polygons.

But there she was, waking up on a roof top, in what seemed like the same spot she had passed out in, only she stood within this bizarro retro album cover art version of what she knew to be Arcadia.

Max didn't have a body, per se. It was...more like she just _existed _there, in that space.

Off in the distance, across the way? Yep. A wire-frame lighthouse perched on the cliff side projecting out onto the bay, its light long faded. In front of her, an approximation of City Hall.

To her side, a blue light with little wings. A thread made of ethereal light tied the blue ball of light to Max. Where its half of the thread was blue, Max's was red – and the two faded to purple halfway.

It was Chloe, of course. The blue light.

Max and Chloe were _**-connected-**_, always. As weird as this dream was, as little sense as it made, _that _much was obvious enough to Max.

What didn't make sense, however, and what startled Max more than anything, was something off in the distance.

A building – an exceedingly tall building; or rather, a polygonal thing _shaped _like a tall building? – was being consumed. What did it represent? Max thought a moment – she _could _think, at least, in this place, in this dream. She was self-aware.

There was only one building which Max figured it could stand for, one entity that resided in a structure that large in Arcadia: Zaibatsu.

A giant storm was _swirling _around the building. A gray tornado, just _raging _around, its appearance startlingly more detailed than the rest of the archaically imagined environment around Max. Purple lightning spouted from the tornado, flickering and flashing, causing uproarious thunder.

Up in the sky, above the tornado, lurched an even more sinister-looking force.

Three triangles of red light, arranged in a triangle themselves, lines of gold drawn through the sky between them – an eerie portal existed in the space between those lines. A muddy, ever-shifting vomit of colors, the portal flickering and blinked like a TV with its antennae being played with.

Chloe would probably be having a fit over what a cool album cover this whole sight would make.

But Max somehow felt displaced, uncomfortable, on edge.

"͏͢**M̕͡ą̢̢́x͢͏̛**?̵̡!́͠͞҉ ̶͢M̧̧͘a̸̷͟͡x̸̧̕͢,̸̴̨͝ ̴̡̀͞i̧͘s̷͘̕ ̶̷͜t̶̵̷̨͠h̷̢͜a̵̶̡͜t̸͝͞ ̢́̕ý͝ơ̴͢u͏̵?̴̷̷!̶́͡"͟͠͠

Having someone shout her name from nearby did _not _make Max feel any more at ease.

When Max shifted focus on the strangely familiar voice, she saw about the last person she'd expect to see in a place like this.

She saw her friend Alex.

Only Alex didn't quite look right. Didn't sound right, either. Her voice was loud, yet fuzzy, barely decipherable, a radio station only _just _barely in tune enough for Max to tell there was a signal at all.

Not unlike the strange portal hanging in the sky, Alex looked even less in-focus. A hologram from an old sci-fi movie, struggling to maintain its connection. And yet, despite these layers of static, Max _knew, _deep down, that this was Alex Olas speaking to her.

And as static as this vision of Alex was, as garbled as her words were, Max could tell she was quite upset.

"͏̧͠͠Ớ̧̡̕h̶́͡͞ ̸̨́g̵͠o̡̨͜͜d͝ḑ̶͘ȩ̛s̵̸͠͡s̶̡͜͢͢ȩ̷͞͏s̨̢͘͜,̨̀͜͜͞ ͘͞í́͘͢t̨̢́̕ ̸̧_i͟͜͜s̷_ ̀͏y͏ò̷̡u͘͟.̵̷͢͝͞.̧̨͟͞͞.̧҉̷"̵҉͢ ̀

Max couldn't respond. She had no means of doing so – she wasn't _here, _really, she had no form to speak _with._

"M̵a͝x,͜ ͢yo̴u̧-̷.̷.͞.̶" A̶ s̛o͢b͘ fro̢m͞ A̵l̕ex̸. ͘"I ̷fu͡c̡ke͜d̡ _up_,̧ ̸Mąx̸.͜ I do͠n̛'̴t k͢n̵ow͡ ḩo̸w̢ to ̵g̡et-̕...̛I͏'m̡ jus̡t̀ tr͟ying to͜ g̢et̡ ̶b̡ack̷,̶ ͞sh̴e͢'̷s͏ _h̀el̛pin͢g_ ͠mę,̢ b͝u̕t͡ I ͞d͠o͠n't-.̴..̸H̡o҉w ͘d͝i͘d ͏y̡ou͟ ͞_ge͢t_ ̵h̢ere,̴ ̸M҉a̧x͠?̷ ̀Ta̸k̢e͏ ͞me҉ ̵ba̸ck ͝w̸i̧th ̕y͡ou̴, ̀_p̴le̴ás͡e!͜_ I̕ j҉u̸st ̨ņee͡d ̷t͟o͘-"  
…̇̄̂̐  
ͧ̂͛̅̒̚.̅.ͤ  
ͦ̆́.̌̆͗̅  
̋̿̂ͣͤ  
̇̓ͣ̄.̏̈ͮ͊ͥͤ  
̾̿͌̊̒͊̐  
.̐̉ͦ̂͒̔̈́  
**"MAX!"  
****  
**Max's throat was on fire, she was hacking up a whole damned _lung, _it felt like.

She was back. She'd woken up. She was choking, Chloe was pounding on her back. She was on her knees, on that fucking roof she and Chloe had been telepathically _launched _onto.

Shit! Frisk! Rachel!

What-?!

_Argh, _she could barely _breathe, _she was coughing up a small puddle of blood.

"Breathe, Max! C'mon, keep-...Get that shit out, just...-"

Chloe was bringing her back. Max was on her knees, her hands pressed against the concrete roof. Groaning for breath and spitting hair from her lips, huffing it from from her runny nose, Max's chest pain began to settle down as she breathed.

"Din-fucking-_shitballs, _Max," Chloe eked out, her voice trembling with fear as she collapsed into a sitting a position beside her wife. "Fucking _scared _me, Max, you never do _that _when...-" She gestured vaguely and with frightened frustration.

Max has passed out in the past from overextending her powers, but...she had _never _seen another _person _in her visions like that, and she had never woken up coughing up blood, either.

"The fuck just _happened_?" Chloe whispered, wrangling Max into her grip. Pressing Max's head against her own shoulder, Chloe followed up, "What did you _see_?"

"_Gugh_-..." Max cleared her throat, wiping her bloody lips on her coat sleeve.

"A-And fucking..._Rachel? _And that creepy _kid? _What...-?" Chloe was a bit hysterical, which was, well, maybe understandable. Max was just in shock.

"Something's _happening, _Chloe," Max eked out through her ragged breath. "I think-...I think we're in danger."

"_Sssh!_" hissed Chloe incredulously. With a nervous laugh, she kissed Max's head. "Yea. Yea, no shit, Sweethart..." With a deep sigh into Max's hair, Chloe grumbled, "Ain't we always?"

Max's hip vibrated.

Shit, she was technically still on the job.

"Max..." Chloe begged when Max went for her phone. "What're you doing? C'mon, don't...-"

( From: Nora )-  
( I'm here. )-  
( Find anything yet? )-

Max eked out a text back to the officer.

-( danger )  
-( rachel )  
-( frisk )  
-( gun )

So exhausted from her ordeal, Max's hand dropped, her wrist colliding with the hard roof, her phone slipping out of her grasp as she let herself rest against her uneasy wife's chest.

Her eyes gazed off across the distance, toward the lighthouse perched far off at the city limits. It was difficult to see but it light gave it away, even amongst the bright neon of the city below.

The lighthouse's beacon was alight, slowly spinning in circles, its illuminating beam a reassuring sight.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_'Flowey' originates from __**Undertale**__ (toby fox)  
Shantae originates from the __**Shantae**__ series (Wayforward)_


	13. Episode 13

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)

**Episode 13  
**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

( It would seem you're enjoying quite an evening, then, Alexandra. )-

-( ffff that's one way to put it xD )  
-( Sorry that work sucks tonight. )

( I assure you, I will survive, Darling. )-  
( Your sympathy is appreciated. )-  
( Thank you for the lovely poem and photograph. )-  
( I have further nonsense to attend to, so please do enjoy the rest of your evening. )-

-( yea )  
-( go get mm )

Blah. Fingers. Hard. Words.  
_Hhhhmmmm..._

Alex caught herself giggling stupidly up at the moon, and she leaned back into her seat with a pleasant exhale. Ellie was still practicing her guitar. The crackling fire, the rolling ocean, the salty air, the cool air, just.._fuck. _This was good. Nice.

Mae yawned loudly from Alex side in the next chair over.

"Soooo...We goin' out for drinks still, or...-?"

To this, Alex shook her head and yawned herself, having caught the contagion from her roommate.

Undoing her ponytail and letting her hair down, Alex folded her hands over her stomach, let her head sag against the chair she was in.

"Sorry, Mae, I'm-..._Hooff._"

Mae chuckled. "I hear ya, dude."

"You can take a load off here if you want," Ellie insisted, tuning her instrument. Twisting at the knobs, she added, "Long as you don't mind me practicing."

"Mm." Alex swiped a sleepy hand out with chillax 'go-for-it' vibes, her eyes already closed. She made this weird little hum-giggle noise that Mae found cute as **hell** as she put her hands in the opposite arms' sleeves across her tum.

Mae took another rip from their bubbler – little too big a hit, mebbe, choked up half a lung, laughed at themself. Watched Ellie try playing her music a bit. She'd given up on the sad-sounding thing from earlier and was trying to do something, like...folksy? Happy-ish? Happy-lite? Couldn't tell, girl kept fucking it up, seemed like. Got all annoyed at herself and all that.

Eh. Mae always rolled with it when they screwed up playing bass. Even when it was live, ya know? Roll with the punches, with the kicks, with the wet-willies and the noogies. Show went on and stuff.

Few minutes went by. Mae felt nice n' dull. Stuff was sure hittin' Alex hard, heh. Out like a light. A light that had the bulb screwed off, tossed in the air, and smaSHED WITH A BAT, _hee._

"Whhhhere'd ya lern howda play thit, nneeway?"

Ellie stared at Mae. For those words. What they said. Just now.

"Wh-...What, this?"  
"Wh-...What, this?"

Ellie held up the guitar a little.  
Ellie held up the guitar a little.

haaaaa Mae was startin' to see double.  
double.  
One double. Or was it two because there was two Ellies.  
hm.  
hm.

Mae nodded. Nodded. Nodded.

"My, uh...-" Scritchy scratchin' her nose. "My...old man taught me. Long time ago."  
"My, uh...-" Scritchy scratchin' her nose. "My...old man taught me. Long time ago."

"Yerrrr dadd-ayy? _Haaangh. Haha._"

"I, erh-...Sure, yea."  
"I, erh-...Sure, yea."

Dammmmmm, Ellie's daddy. Heard some dark SHIT about him, about what him and Ellie had been through...

Ellie went back to playing a pretty lil' guitarin' song.  
Ellie went back to playing a pretty lil' guitarin' song.

Ohhhh yeaaaaaa boiiiizzzz Mae still had drinkies!  
Went to finishing off that can o' beer, burped 'emself like a babby, time fer a nap, also.

Nice little beach party only without the beach and the party.  
Nice place to take a nap.

So Mae went to sleep.

Sleepy sleep.  
SHAPES. Mae show shapes.  
Shapes...became chains. Lotta chains.  
Rows and rows of chains.  
Sweeping by. Sweepin' along.  
Chains and chains for days for days.

Mae was in a bed.  
In a cell. A jail cell.

Ahhh right, another one of their nightmares n' shiz, this one was _weirder _than usual tho.  
Normal Mae nightmares mean SMASHY SMASH on all the things, hoppin' across roofs and talking up gods and ghosts.

But this?

Ew.

This was what was this it was a JAIL CELL with bars and Mae was in stripe-ed clothessss and hands chained all together? The fuqq? Mae wasn't really all about this role play so like wut the eff, man.

There were OLD TIMEY speakers on the wall of this weird jail and they were playing some gross OPERA music or some shit? BORING. LAME. WHY. This really WAS a nightmare.

Mae tried getting up outta of their bed. Was more like a BOARD with a blanket on it, blech.  
Mae bumped their head on the wall the bed was up on, only it...felt _good? _It didn't hurt.

What-...?

The walls. The walls of this jail cell...were _purple. And soft. whhh  
PADDED WALLS_

Mae was in some kinda...purple velvet room.

And beyond the jail cell door was, like...some kind of weird, trippy room. The floor was a grid of purple squares, pulsing slowly, like lights beneath glass. There was a black screen floating in the middle of the room. An _old screen, _like some ancient TV, thing was thicc like a bricc. Place felt like from some other time, a time before Mae was even born.

**-WHAM!-**

_**hohhh shit!**_

Loud banging metal sound scared the crapp outta Mae so hard they _fell outta bed._

"Up and _at 'em, _**inmate!**" screeched an annoying voice.  
"We'd like a word with you," said a calm voice.

Mae went to stand up – tripped over themself some more, ankle was chained, too, FUCK.

Crawling to the cell bars in front of them like a cat begging to be let outside, Mae looked up at the pair of weirdos in front of them.

"_On your feet!_" growled the mean voice. "Our master will showing up any minute!"  
"This is all but a dream," explained the calm voice. "Do not be alarmed. Arise."

Mae was weirded out, dude.

These two voices: it was a pair of, like, girls or something? Fuckin' middle-schoolers or some shit, cosplaying as cops, wearing blue outfits and black baggy shorts. Uniforms? Costumes? Looked like twins? Straight outta some horror movie or something.

MAN, Mae was gonna have to ask Ellie to give 'em a different strain next time, this batch they'd smoked musta been _badddd. _Made Mae wonder what kinda nightmare Alex was having...

Mae rubbed at their eyes, which felt weird 'cuz yea, this totally _was _a dream. Mae knew it. Wasn't hard, Mae was good at swimming through their own head by now, usually could have FUN during their nightmares, but _this _was some bullshit.

Mae grabbed the black metal bars in front of 'em and struggled to their feet. The two girls staring at Mae had white hair under police hats. The angry girl on the right had her hair up in two buns at the back, and the calm girl on the left had a braided ponytail. Their eyes were amber, creepy, _staring _through Mae. But they each only had one eye. They both had _eye-patches. _The angry one's right eye and the calm one's left eye were covered up. The black eye-patches had a gold thingy sewn in, some kinda symbol. Sorta like a creepy eyeball that was crying?

"_Ugh,_" sighed the angry girl, tapping her baton against her hand. "Not _another _delinquent, I'm _sick _of dealing with fools..."  
"Hm," hummed the calm girl, swiping a at a tablet in her hand. "What would our master want with one such as you...?"

Mae narrowed their eyes at them. They listened to this stupid 'aaah-ahhh' opera music crap. They pawed at the chain tying their wrists together. Gave it a tug.

"Is this, like, detention?" Mae mumbled. "You the substitute teachers? I been a bad kid, or-?"  
**-WHAM!-  
**More slamming on the bars, DANG!

"**Quiet**, inmate!" _Yipes, Mae kinda liked being yelled at maybe?_**  
**"Patience, sister." _But the quiet one was nice, too!_  
"Where _are _they?" _Uncomfort._  
"On their way, Sister. Patience." _This dream was uncomfort._As the two cop-kids waited for a moment, Mae decided to ask, "This isn't, like, a sex dream, is it? Or like, an anti-sex dream? Like, a PSA, 'don't be a pedo or you'll go to jail' kinda subliminal warning-"  
"_**WHAT?!**_"  
"Oh my..."

The pair of twins gave each other weird, totally uncomfortable looks.

Then they looked back at Mae, all offended and stuff.

"This-...This is a _prison!_" Yelled the one on the right._ "_We are your _wardens!_"  
The left one nodded and said, "The duty of wardens is protect their inmates."

An awkward silence. Mae laughed at how serious these kiddos were.

The angry one leaned over toward the calm one, they whispered at each other, even though Mae could definitely hear 'em. Was like a little act goin' on.

Angry girl: "Why are _we _stuck with this duty?"  
Calm girl: "Gaster is no longer in any state to do so himself."  
Angry girl: "And _we __**are?! **_What about O'Deorain?!"  
Calm girl: "I don't think she's willing to associate with the Master anymore..."  
Angry girl: "Lutece? How about Lutece?"  
Calm girl: "Please, Sister..."  
Angry girl: "If the Master would just _ask _someone else...-!"  
Calm girl: "Which matters more? Your part in the play...-?"  
Angry girl (grunting): "-...or the play itself..."

Having bored of their mindless chatter, Mae reached out their hands and _yoinked _the hats off the two girls. Threw them to the floor.

That got Mae some _puh-ritt-ee _cold looks.

**-WHAM!-**

Angry girl slammed the bars again with that baton, made Mae flinch but they stood their ground. Heh. Kid was all blushing and shit, total tsundere. Calm girl went to go pick their hats back up, shaking her head and sighing, total librarian.

"Your manners are...somewhat lacking," said the Calm girl, putting on her hat and handing the other to her twin.

"We ought to teach _you_ a lesson in respect!" snarled the Angry girl, putting on her hat and tapping her baton on the bars.

"You gonna hit me with that thing, or what?" Mae taunted, smirking. "Go on. Go on, c'mon, hit me, c'mon, _hit me with the thing, _do it, do it, hit me, hit me, do it, come onnnn, hit me, do it, c'mon-"  
**"Do not **_**test me, **_**inmate!"** Angry girl stomped.  
"We don't wish to harm you..." Calm girl looked down.  
"But we _will _if you don't show some obedience!" Angry girl swiped her baton.  
"If you aren't cooperative, our master may not show mercy..." Calm girl tapped at her tablet.

"Hey, I mean...-" Mae shrugged nonchalantly. These two were easier to play than a bass, that was for sure. A-Actually, bass wasn't easy at all, but. Yea. "Maybe if ya'll changed the _radio station _up in here...-" Mae rubbed a finger through their ear. No wax, tho. Go fig. Not even dream wax. "I might cooperate if I could listen to some music from this _century._"

The Angry girl's jaw dropped, eyes got angry brows.  
The Calm girl's lips pouted, eyes got wide and sad.

The metal jail speakers got all staticky for a second, and the music changed. It was...actually the same song, only now it had, like...an actual beat? Sorta? Which was a step up, Mae guessed. Still a nightmare, though, creepy opera lady singing...

Angry girl looked up at the speakers and grumbled, "_Urgh, _I cannot believe they'd give in to this impudent child's whining..."

"_Hey,_" Mae countered, "Who're you calling a _child, _you lil' girl?"

"_Girl?! _Rrrrgh..."  
"Calm down, Sister..."

Mae ignored Angry, spoke to Calm instead.  
"So, uh, why am I dreaming this, huh? You said this is a dream, right?"

"Of _course _it's a dream!"  
"Indeed, I did say that."

"Right, right. Cool-cool. So. Why...am I dreaming this nonsense?"

Calm girl sighed, "Every inmate's rehabilitation requires its own tailored methods to succeed...This place appears to those who need assistance in that process."

"So, like, cool, and whatever, that's a total non-answer answer, moving on, what do I _call _you two Good Cop, Bad Cop? It's a cute act and all that, nice duet costume and all, but, yea. Who are you? Exactly? Name-wise?"

"We are La-"  
"We are La-"

They'd started, but stopped. They turned their heads to each other so their good eyes could see the other. Blinked a bit, cleared their throats, and tried again.

"I am Caroline," said the Angry one.  
"I am Justine," said the Calm one.

"You're twins," Mae guessed. "Adorable, weird, police-cosplaying twins. I'm sure that's, like, _somebody's _fetish somewhere, but it ain't mine, so I dunno why the hell this is a dream in my head."

"We are _not _cosplaying!" A grumpy stomp.  
"We are twin wardens." A tired head-shake.  
They shouted in unison:  
**"This is the Velvet Room!"**  
_"This is the Velvet Room!"_

"That...sounds like a night club," Mae said, imagining an actual night club with padded velvet walls. "A very shady night club which shouldn't be employing children. This is fucked up. Am I supposed to rescue ya'll? Maybe? Am I supposed to convince you to break me out, and I rough up your boss, and then you don't have to be slave workers? Is that where this dream is going?"

**-WHAM!-**  
"You'd better start taking this seriously, **inmate!**"  
"Please refrain from inappropriate remarks..."

Mae shrugged again, smiling. This dream was some weird-ass shit, but at least they could have fun.

Just as Mae was ready to toss out more teasing, the big screen behind the cop kids turned on. Mae had almost forgot about that thing – that old-ass TV floating in the middle of the big room, with empty jail cells all around the walls. There was a lotta weird blue words scrolling down the screen, like a funky screensaver.

"Our Master has connected a call," said Justine.  
"It's about _time!_" huffed Caroline. "Now, you're going to _listen up, __**inmate.**_"

Justine fiddled with her tablet some more.  
Caroline crossed her arms and shook her head.

"Please heed the Master's words," Justine instructed.  
"Or I'll _beat it _into you," Caroline threatened.

"Orrrr," Mae goaded, grinning, "How about you beat it into me and then your sister kisses the boo-boos to make them better? Bad Cop, Good Cop?"

Their faces lit up like stoplights, which only made Mae chuckle.

"What a _disrespectful_ little-!"  
"The M-Master has connected..."

The screen flickered and flashed that weird crying-eyeball symbol from the cop-girls' eye-patches.

The Good Cop, Bad Cop act was put on hold as all eyes went on the screen. Didn't show anyone, just that eyeball thingy. Person sounded like two voices speaking at the same time. Neat voice filter, dude.

[ "Mae Borowski." ]  
Woooo spookyyyy, the TV in Mae's dream knew their naaaaame~

"It's-a me!" Mae jovially chirped, quoting a famous mobster movie.

The TV said, [ "It seems you've been selected." ]  
Ugh. Sounded like an _old person. _Mae didn't like it...

Mae had to decide between taking them seriously or not.

It wasn't a hard choice to make.

"Selected? What do I win? A car? A vacation?"

**-WHAM!-****  
**"You_ will _respect our master, **inmate!**"  
"They are generously gracing you with a gift."

"I like gifts. Gimme the gift. Lemme tear shit up already, this dream is boring."

[ "It is not merely a gift. It is a responsibility." ]

"_Ew. _Gross. Hard-pass, then. Nevermind. _Wake me up._"

[ "You are in dire need of rehabilitation. This place – this dream – appears before others like you. Lost Souls who feel trapped. Reckless fools in need of guidance. Based on the research we've conducted, it would seem you are...certainly in need of guidance." ]

"I do what I want, _when_ I want," Mae replied simply. Was this about to become like a game show?

The sisters snapped at her.  
"You'll do as you're _told, __**inmate!**_"  
"It is in your best interest to cooperate..."

Mae rolled their eyes at the weird cop twins. When was Mae gonna wake up? This dream was getting old, and making them feel uncomfortable with this whole 'jailed by children' thing, like. What even.

[ "You've been selected," ] repeated the TV. [ "The path to freedom is different for every one of us. We can provide you the tool you are best suited to use, and ask that you use it responsibly." ]

"I prolly won't," Mae confessed bluntly, with a laugh.

"You'd _better!_" Caroline snapped.  
"We'd advise you to reconsider..." Justine pleaded.

[ "The city of **Arcadia** is in turmoil. Perhaps not on the surface – not yet – but like a malicious sickness, a plague, **the calamity** haunting us will soon rise from beneath the surface, out in plain sight, but invisible at the same time. By granting the gift of sight to those the Program selects, we implore you to act upon what you see. That response in and of itself might be all the Program expects of you. It is certainly all _I _can expect from someone such as you..." ]

"Wait, wait. So I'm selected for what?" Mae wondered, hoping this dream would take a turn for the interesting. "And why'd you pick _me_, huh?"

[ "I did not pick you myself. The Program did. I'm following through on its instructions." ]

"So yer just...gonna do what a computer does? Is this supposed to be a metaphor for my life or something? 'Cuz I don't feel like I use my phone _that _much..."

[ "Do you or do you not accept the task I am asking of you, and the gift that comes with it?" ]

Scoffing and tossing their chained wrists around, Mae said, "I mean, who are _you _to be asking anything of me, huh? Some kinda dream version of...one of my elementary teachers, or something? Come back to bug me a decade late? Who are you?"

[ "I am a being of time. And I don't believe in accidents. You _will_ accept this task." ]

"Ya'll got A LOTTA non-answers for me tonight, ya know that? A simple 'my name is _blank_' would work. But nahhhh gotta be all cryptic on me, huh? Tellin' me to follow vague-ass orders?"

There was a deep sigh from the TV, so Mae knew they were getting somewhere.

**-WHAM!-****  
**"**Inmate! Silence! **You will heed our master's words! Don't _make_ me say it again!"  
"Our master has toiled for the sake of your people. They deserve your undivided attention!"

Mae's narrowed eyes slid from one police-kid-sister to the other. They both looked DEAD ASS about this weird crap. Mae shook the metal bars of their cell, and grumped at their chains dangling around. They wanted outta this dumb jail cell. What kinda weed had Ellie hooked them up with to give 'em _this _kinda creepy-pasta dream, anyway?

"Look, uh-...Ya'll do what ya gotta do, mmkay? I ain't makin' no promises to no nightmare people."

The Sisters stared at each other with disbelief, then at Mae, like she'd said a slur at them.

[ "Very well," ] said the TV. [ "The Program's instructions will still be followed. It does not make mistakes with its calculations, so I'm sure even your insubordination has purpose. **Sisters?**" ] The two cop kiddos ten-hutted or whatever, standing tall and straight.

"Master Sheik!"  
"Master Sheik!"

[ "Please install the Program." ]

"Yes, Lord!"  
"Yes, Lord!"

**-kli-kli-kli-kli-**_**klik!**_**-**

The cell door had slid open on its own, loudly. The TV clicked and went off.

"Hey, wait! Who-...? Aw, they hung up?" Mae was disappointed. Who even _was _that? And why did Mae feel like that wasn't the last they'd hear from them? They tried to dredge up what kind of paternal figure from their past it could be a dream-copy of. You know, like how your subconscious will lift real life shit and apply it to like...dream metaphor...stuff? 'Master Sheek,' though? – didn't ring any bells...

Or maybe none of this made sense because dreams didn't make sense!  
That made more sense than anything else.  
Right?

Justine went to the strange TV, which went back to its screen-saver weirdness from before, with all the blue computer words scrolling along. She was doing something with the TV on her tablet, sorta like...plugging it into the TV? Kinda?

Caroline approached Mae, looking a bit rattled by Mae's behavior but dead-set on doing her job. She slapped her baton into her palm, trying to look all cool and intimidating but actually just kinda looking like a kid trying to cool and intimidating. Which was, like. Not that. But just kinda funny and adorable.

"Lie down in your bed, **inmate. **You completely disrespected our Master! You want to do things the hard way? _Fine._"

Mae couldn't help it. "The, uh-...The '_hard way,_' huh?"

Caroline frowned.

Drumming their fingers against their hips, Mae tauned, "And what if I don't cooperate, _Officer? _Can't arrest me if I'm already in prisonnnn~"

Caroline's jaws clenched. She slammed her baton on the bars again.  
**-WHAM!-****  
**"Do _not _test my patience, idiot!"

"Hoo-_hoo~_" Mae laughed giddily, skirting themselves to the bed with their chained hands in frolicking fists. They merrily threw themselves into the bed.

"Sister," Justine called from the room beyond. "If you must subdue the inmate for processing, please do so without losing your temper. We still have a duty to protect them."

"Ohhhh, 'subdue,'" Mae goaded at the pink-cheeked girl who was looming over them now. "Oh, that sounds fun, but listen, hey, listen...-" Mae lowered their voice to a whisper.

Caroline's eye slid irritably to one side as she leaned in slightly, her lil' arms all crossed stubbornly.

"..._What?_" the angry cop girl growled through her teeth.

Mae cheekily whispered with a sadistic glee, "I don't think you're old enough for this kinda thing..."

"..._Haarrghhhh...-!_" Caroline was about to lose her shit, just _lose it.  
_What an adorable angry half-pint.  
The other half-pint came over with her tablet, and gave Caroline a weird, confused look.

"Do not let the inmate shake your resolve," Justine advised. "We do not need another outburst."

"I am _not _'outbursting,' Justine."  
"You appear on the verge, Caroline."  
"We're _so close _to finishing up with the _last _inmate, _why _must we have _another fool _thrown upon us?"

The angry kid's fingers tightened around the baton, their face hard as steel and their amber eye flashing with rage. The calm kid's fingers flowed across their tablet screen, Mae snickered, rolling a little in the bed.

"Again, Sister," said Justine, smiling pleasantly. Her lip twitched. She spoke. "I ask you: which matters more? Your part in the play...-?"

Caroline frowned. Her eye twitched. She grumbled, "-...or the play itself."

Justine nodded. She'd won the argument, obviously. Sorta reminded Mae of times when Bea had done the same – won the argument. _Damn you, __**logic**__, with your...making sense._

Not that, uh, not that any of this was making sense.

"Precisely," Justine said, kinda ending the whole chat. "Our inmates do as they're told, and so do we."  
"But they're not even _doing _what they're told!"  
"That doesn't mean we must stoop to their level..."  
"Just-...! Just install the damn Program, already!"  
"Deep breaths, Sister. Be calm."  
"_I __**am **__calm._"

Justine sighed sadly, shaking her head.  
Caroline sighed testily, shaking her head.

"Awww, did I make you two fight?" Mae cooed, pouting their lips. Between the two of them, the pair have Mae a complete glare of deadpan irritation.

"Commencing installation," said Justine. "Prepare the subject."

"You'd better stay _still, _inmate," barked Caroline, slamming Mae's head flat against the bed.

The tablet blinked and flashed as a bunch of weird blue symbols scrolled down across its screen. Two small, glowing blue drops of..._something__..._oozed out of ports on the bottom of the table. They dripped off, splashing into each of  
M͓̤̱̹a͕̦͍͔̮̜e͓͎̖̜̟ͅ's̹̳̙̟͙͓̫ ̪̯̬ey͚͚̻̜͓̳e̩̦͎ ͔̘̭̰ͅb̥͇͈̞ͅa̞̯̮̟̙͔̞l̖͍l̜̲s̱̼̰̩͎̹͍, c̝͉̠a̜̗u̻̪̫̻̙̙̤s̮͕i̘̪n͕g̫̝̹̠̼͎͈ ̲͕͇̼̼ṱ̬̳̘͉̫ ̙̖h͍͖͈̪͉ ͓̞̲̖̝e̮͔͕̺͈̖ ̩ͅs̪̼ ̻̟ͅt ̺͈r̲̪͖̟ ̳̞̻͙a̱͎̻̗̪̫ͅ ̦̤̥̜n̻ ͍̩̱̠̺g͙̠͕̘͚ e̳͓͓ ̹͔͖̰̝̪̺s͉ ̺͎t̤̼̣̫͚͓ ̱͉̟̝̣̰̜ f͚̘͓͓ ḙ̩̲͓̲ ̫̼̟͕̖ͅe͓ ̳ͅl͙ ̼̘̥̬̗̱i̠͙ ̦̠̱n̹͔̝̟ g̠̥͚̮͉͕

Felt like time sloooowweeeedddd dooowwwnnn to a nice comfy stop.  
Just when Mae had thought the drugs were wearing off, right?  
Something spoke to Mae. Not with a voice, but more like, with...lights? Letters?

This thing, this something, it took letters, and it spelled out a question in front of Mae as they floated in this black nothing. When Mae replied, it would make more words, make more questions.

[ who am i? ]

" Um. No idea. Some kinda...computer? I guess? "

[ who are you? ]

" Mae Borowski. "

[ why? ]

" Uh...Yea, I don't...know? I just sorta...am. "

[ aren't you afraid? ]

" ...Absolutely? All the fucking time? "

-x NIGHTMARE EYES x-

-_** connected -**_

Oh, yeesh, woof, ouch. Real sharp STING in the back of Mae's neck, hurt like HELL.

Like damn electricity shooting up their back, into their skull, out through their eyes.

And then more speaking.

Sounded like the...twins, actually?

Only not?

Like both of them?

At the same time?

_**I am thou.  
Thou art I.**__**  
**_

_**Thou hast acquired a new vow.  
It shall become thy beacon in the dark storm,  
lighting thy path toward freedom.**_

**-We are with you, Inmate.-**  
_You...sure are, ya weird, cop-girlies._

_**-WE ARE NOT COP GIRLIES-  
**_**-Let it go, Sister.-**

…

_OK, byeeeee~_

Mae Borowski.

Open your eyes...

**Awaken.**

M̔̍̉̽ͨ̚ a̾ eͤ ͨćͤ oͪͬ̊̚ u̿ͫͤͫ̂̉ g̿̔̾̃ h̓͐̅ͤ eͦ̈̍̽͒d̄ ,̅̏͑́ ̈́̎ͮč̀̀͊ͥh̾͑o͐̂ͪ̿̒̈kͭ̂ͣi̇ͯͯ͊n̋̽g ͑̔̋̿̆ͭoͦ̉n̄ ͫ̆̾̎̍t̓̎h̄ȇ̋̚i̿ͩ͂̓rͧ͋͂̅ ̾͋̍͂̈̐oͫ̌̾̐ͨ̾wͫ͊ͧͤ̆͛̚nͦ͋̀̅ ̉͊sͧ̾͂͆p̉̐i̒̎̾tͪ.͌͂̿ͣͦ̔̎

They'd woken up all coughing and stuff. Throat burned. Head was _hurting _like a mother fucker. Somebody was bickering nearby, all hushed voices and stuff.

"No-no-no, listen, listen: 'multiple sources claim they heard an _'unearthly scream' _emanate from'-...I mean, come _on, _if that's not the kind of thing that we-"  
"Whatever it was tore a damn _hole _through a government _buildin', _Ellie. Now, I'd say that's the _opposite _o' what-"  
"_Shh-shh-shh...-!_"

"What...?" Mae groaned.

Mae tried to move, but moving was hard. They rubbed at the back of their neck – which was still in pain, like a bug had just stung them. "ELLIE, the _ffffflippity-_fap kinda...weed did you...give...-?"

Mae had softened their voice when they realized they were in a plastic chair, by a campfire, by the water, at night, and, like...people were sleeping nearby. Ol' man Frank, his dog, and Alex were snoozing, and Ellie was on her phone, drinking that beer she liked, with some old guy looming over her shoulder.

"You, uh-..." Ellie shifted in her seat a little. "Y'alright there? Mae?"

"Grrmpghhrglmhj...-" Mae attempted to say more words softly, their throat full of mucus and junk. Cleared their throat out and took a swig of leftover beer – still a little cold, nice. Helped liquify their throat a bit, wet it up, ya know? Wiping drool and beer from their lips, Mae

"Who's the grandpa?" Mae asked, rubbing their eyes and yawning.

Ellie felt her chest freeze up. Her head and neck suddenly felt petrified. Her eyes skirted around the campfire, everywhere but where she could see Joel.

"...Who? What, you mean-...You mean _Frank? _He's not..._that _old, Mae. Don't say that to his face, he-"  
"Nahhhh, nah-nah-nah, who's Mr. Grizzly McBeardy Grump over here?"

Ellie's breath stopped, her heart skipped. She slowly turned her head toward Joel, who was lingering beside her chair. He gave her a dire, puzzled expression.

"Wh-..." Ellie started, baffled and scared shitless.

"That your _boss _or somethin'?" Mae wondered.

"_What? _No," Ellie immediately spat.

"Now-..." Joel did a double-take. Pawing his wrinkled hand across his stubbled chin, he shook his head, then wiggled a finger at Mae. "Now hold _on _a minute, you-..." Joel paused, finger still in the air, and glanced at Ellie. "What? Can she _see _me? Now? All o' sudden?"

"Uh, th-...they, uh...-" Ellie went to say it, but...-

"It's uh, it's 'they,' actually," Mae corrected. "Not 'she.' I ain't a 'she,' Mister Grump."

"_Puh-! _Mister 'Grump'...The _hell _she mean, 'ain't a she,' what's that-"  
"I _mean _you ain't gonna call me 'she' or 'her' or I'm-a smack yer grumpy beard face."

Joel seemed...more amused than anything by this. Shocked briefly, his stern manner melted away into an amused chuckle.

"Well, yes, _Ma'am,_" he said with a rolling nod.

"Not 'Ma'am,' either," Mae fiercely retorted.

"Right. Right, sure," Joel nodded, placating, but clearly not taking this seriously. He rarely ever even hung about when Mae was around, he always hid himself away somewhere or another when Ellie interacted with anyone her own age or younger. "So what _do_ I call ya, then?" Joel humored her, sticking both his hands out.

"You can call me 'Mae.' You can call me 'them,' or 'they.'"

"_Right. _Right, then. I can call _them_..._Mae. _Now how _'bout _that, Ellie? How about _that?_"

Oh, he was just..._loving _this, wasn't he?

But Ellie was terrified.

Mae was talking with Joel. They could _see _him, they could _hear _him?

_Fuck. Shit. Ffffffuck fuck what? What? HOW? Mae? MAE of all people? When did...-? This wasn't a THING before how do we what do I what if they tell someone that tries to...!_

"Calm _down_," Joel hissed at Ellie, reading her like a book – more like the cover around said book. "Now-...Now just..._calm. _Down." Joel was pushed his palm out at Ellie, talking to her like he used to talk to his horse when it got spooked. "Take a beat, kiddo, don't go...all off the rails, now."

"Did I...-?" Mae was getting up out of their seat and coming over. "Something up? What happened? Who's going off _what _rails? This old-timer givin' you _trouble, _Ellie? You need me to go get my bat?"

"You didn't _bring _your bat," Ellie spat out, trying to keep her voice down but entirely riled.

"Fine," Mae shrugged, sauntering up to Joel and looking up at him with a sharp glare as they rolled up their sleeves and shivered. "Fine, didn't _bring _my bat. Maybe I don't _need _it, maybe I can take this guy, anyway."

Joel puffed an incredulous laugh.

"Oh. Oh, I _like _yer little friend here," he said to Ellie, pointing down at Mae with one hand and wiping his mouth with the other. "I _like _'em."

"Could you two just...-?" Ellie was spooked, paralyzed.

"Ah, yea?" Mae scoffed at Joel. "How ya like _**th-...?**_"

Mae had gone to shove Joel. They'd passed right through him. Stumbled forward into the gravel onto their knees.

Ellie's heart was colliding with her ribcage.

Joel burst out laughing, slapping his hand on his knee.

"...Whoa," Mae mumbled, on their knees in the gravel behind Ellie. "'Mm I, like...more stoned n' I thought, rrr...-?"

"It's-...It's, _ahhhh_...-" Ellie coughed, suddenly choking on her own spit.

Joel just laughed even more, the prick. On the other hand, Ellie couldn't even recall the last time she had seen him laugh like this.

"You...OK? There?" Mae asked. When Ellie nodded, punching at her own chest, Mae stared back up at Joel with a grouchy look. "You trip me?" Mae accused him.

"If only I _could, _ya damn brat," Joel teased.

"_Joel_," Ellie hissed at him. "Could you _not? _This is _serious._"

"Come _on, _then," Joel scoffed, shoving a wrist out toward Mae. "I been _waitin' _for this. Bound to run into somebody like this _eventually_. Not like we're the only ones 'round with this, urh...'condition.'" He shrugged up his hands, then let them slap against the sides of thighs.

"But...-!" Ellie winced, flashing a hand out.

Joel stuck up an index finger at her, signaling her to shut up and cool her jets.

"After _all _I done for you," said Joel, "ya mind givin' me _one _damn moment o' entertainment, here?"

"Seriously, Ellie, who _is _this guy?" Mae growled, dusting their pants off.

"Who's _what _guy? What's goin' on?"  
Ffffuck, now _Frank _was up!

"_This _guy!" Mae cried out, shoving their hand out at Joel. They huffed irritably as they wiped slushy bits off their arms.

"The _fuck're _you still doin' here?" Frank huffed at Mae. "What _time _is it? Ellie, why'd you...-?" He noticed Alex, who was still passed out in her seat. He kicked her lightly in the shin. _GREAT._

"_Hmm_-?" Now Alex was up, too! _Goddessdamnit everyone! _"Wuzz the fuggabout huh?"  
At least Alex sounded so loopy she'd probably forget all this the next morning. She let her eyeslids sag back closed.

"Ain't it past your bed time, _kiddies_?" Frank growled, kicking Alex again.

"_Eyyy, _sleepin'rover 'ere, _ehh_?!" Yikes, Alex was not a morning person, was she?

It was, like...maybe nine or ten at night, but...yea.

"Let her _sleep, _Frank," Ellie advised tiredly.

"Want these damn kids outta my place, Ellie," Frank snarled in his half-asleep stupor.

"They're paying customers," Ellie pointed out, "and they _were_ just minding their own business."

"_Also, _we're in our _twenties_," Mae reminded. "_Also, _this is public property."

"_-ARRRARRARRF!-_"  
Now Pomidou, Frank's dog, was having a spat.

"_Come _on!" Frank groaned, whapping his mutt's ass with a light tap to get him to follow. He led Pompidou to his trailer.

"-...frmmin' peesinquite," Alex was mumbling in her drug-induced state, snuggling into her jacket like a makeshift blanket and frowning with pouted lips and eyes shut tight.

"_Also,_" Mae was still going, "Who is this _mannn?_"

"The man who _got the damn drugs you're high on!_" Frank cawed from the entrance of his trailer, shooing his pet inside. He thought Mae was going off about him, of course.

"What?" Mae balked. "So he _is _your boss? I thought _Frank _got the stuff ya'll sell?"

Joel's head was shaking slowly with amusement. Ellie was slack-jawed.

"That's-...Mae, how about...-? Just...-!" Ellie swooped over to Mae and tried to lead them off a bit, away from the camp fire.

"Ow hey ow what why're you HEY!" Mae wasn't cooperating, but what else was new? "_Hoorf, _woman!" Mae growled, shivering as they walked away from the fire. "Least let me get my _coat, jeez._"

"Fine," Ellie growled, stomping over to Mae's chair and getting the the hoodie-jacket for them. Shoving it into Mae's chest, Ellie continued ushering them away from the fire.

Frank slammed the door to his trailer shut behind him, and Alex was peaced out. Joel slowwwwly wandered over, thumbs hooked on his pockets as Ellie tried to explain.

"The heckity heck's up with everyone?" Mae grumbled through the fabric of their hoodie coat as they slipped into it.

"That guy? That man?" Ellie was leaning over Mae. As Mae's head popped out of the neck of their jacket, Ellie pointed at Joel shakily. "You see him? Seriously?"

Mae gave Ellie a disgusted, baffled look.

"I had the _most whack _dream off that ounce, but I ain't _blind, _Ellie. _Yea, _that _man, _never seen him before, who _is he_?"

Joel, his mouth creaked open in a smarmy grin, scratched at his jawline, giving Ellie a wry look.

"That's-..."

"Name's Joel."

He stood beside the pair of them, and stuck his hand out to Mae, offering a shake.

"Joel," Ellie grunted, flicking a frustrated hand at his direction, "Stop-...Just stop making this _worse, _all right? You're-"  
"_Joel_," Mae repeated, reaching their hand out to shake Joel's.

Mae's hand passed clean through Joel's.

Which made sense, because Joel wasn't exactly..._there. _Entirely.

"The...-?" Mae was going to swear again, but was so blind-sided and confused, they couldn't utter a word. They tried to shake Joel's hand again, staring wide-eyed and focused this time. Same result, of course.

Joel just laughed, so loudly it made Mae and Ellie flinch.

Seeing Mae so distraught by this, like they were worried their senses were playing tricks on them, Ellie grabbed Mae's hand quickly. She shook it. Shook Mae's hand fiercely.

"It-...It's not _you, _Mae, it-...He's not really _there_. I mean, he's _there, _he's just not...there-there. In person. He doesn't-...He's not...-?"

Mae blinked dumbly at their own hand in Ellie's. Then they gawked at Joel, who nodded as his laughter settled down into a sigh.

"You, um...-" Ellie cleared her throat. She'd dreaded the very idea of trying to explain this to anyone, let alone someone like Mae. Letting their hands disconnect, Ellie checked, "You know about my old man, right?"

Mae nodded slowly, their eyes narrow, almost angry, the fires in that brain burning so hot to try and make sense of this.

"Your old man is _dead_," Mae pointed out. "You _told _me that. You said he _died_ gettin' you out of...whatever _mess_ you were in." Mae sternly glared at Joel, who had gone bitterly silent.

Joel nodded solemnly, staring down at his own feet, his arms crossed sternly.

Ellie shot a glance at the campfire – Alex was conked out, and Frank was inside his RV.

Leaning down a bit to meet Mae's eyes dead-on, Ellie set a hand on Mae's shoulder.

"Dude, just-..." Ellie sighed, closing her eyes as she tried to process how this was even happening, after all of the time she'd been living this way. Opening her eyes and nodding, she took in a breath. Mae's eyes were strangely sharp in that moment, more intent and focused than Ellie had ever seen. "This guy? Joel? He _is _my old man."

Mae's eyes shifted sideways again. Ellie's glance followed. With both of them gawking at him, Joel groaned a noise through his nose and nodded.

Mae scratched their neck, wiped their finger against the edge of their nostrils, and shrugged.

Mae put it simply: "Soooo, yer dead dad is _haunting _you?"

Ellie puffed a soft chuckle-snort and nodded, while Joel grunted with offense.

"Now, that ain't quite-" Joel started.  
"That is _exactly _what's going on," Ellie said quietly, amused at Mae's phrasing but not disagreeing.

Mae nodded a little, with a thoughtful and critical look.

"Nice," they concluded.

"It ain't _nice, _ya damn fool, it's-"  
"It has its _uses_," Ellie conceded, at which Joel was frowning. "But, uh-...Yea, it's...kinda weird."

"You ever sick 'im on people?" Mae pondered suddenly, tapping at their chin while eyeing Joel like he was a new toy. "Talk about _pranking _potential..."

"She's talkin' 'bout me like I'm a damn _dog_," Joel huffed incredulously, shoving out a hand at Mae as he shot Ellie a harsh glance.

"_'They,'_" both Ellie and Mae reminded him in unison.

His eyelids sagged and he shrugged, shaking his head. Rubbing his wrinkled hand across his mouth, he amended, "_They _are talkin' like I'm yer _pet. _It ain't accurate."

"You're right," Ellie agreed with a plastic primness. Fluttering her eyelids at him with a smirk, she added, "It _ain't _accurate. You're _so _much more needy than a pet..."

"_Puh_..." He wasn't amused.

Mae snickered, slapping Ellie's arm with approval. "Ghost Grandpa Pet."

"Riiiiight," Joel drizzled out tiredly, wandering off toward the campfire. "Ya'll get yer jokes in, then."

Watching him wander off, Mae then asked, "So, what, can no one else see him?"

"You're the first besides me," said Ellie.

"I can...see things that...aren't there?" Mae mumbled. They muttered under their breath, "Ahhh, yea. Nightmare eyes..."

"...What?" Ellie was confused, but had a suspicion this nonsense actually equated to..._something_.

Joel made a hushing kind of sound, waving his hand around.

And Ellie felt a sharp sting at the back of her neck, followed by a tingling.

She could sense what Joel could – that Frank was shuffling about in his trailer. What she could sense was even more detailed than just that. Frank was rummaging through his fridge, and Pompidou was panting loudly, hungry for a snack. First, Frank had considered an opened can – probably baked beans, knowing him – but then opted to grab some kind of plastic container.

Ellie could tell all of this from being about forty feet away from his trailer, and having no line of sight to this transpiring within. It was all based on sound.

It was as if the sounds Frank made were, like, put through her brain in a way she could 'see?' Hard to explain – but it was sort of like Ellie could 'see' things through walls based on the sound they made? It was part of what Joel brought to the table, given this weird -_**connection-**_ they shared, among other things. It was a skill Ellie had been forced to learn fast in her youth, making her way out of Caelondia when shit had hit the fan and the place had gone to ruin.

_**-rrrnnnnnn!-**_

Ellie's phone was vibrating, pulling her out of her focus. She noticed she had some texts.

"-shouldn't go 'shushing' me, ya old fart, or-"  
"-gonna cause a ruckus we don't _need, _ya damn-"  
"_Quiet!_" Ellie hushed up both of them, whipping her phone out of her pocket.

( From: Liv )  
( Hey, you all right? )-  
( Some crazy shit went down tonight. )-  
( City wide. )-  
( I'll be at the arcade, got something to run by you. )-

( From: Boss Man )  
( new kid had some kinda emergency had to take off )-  
( can you come in to help me close )-  
( need to grab something I'm starving )-

"Shit," Ellie mumbled, rubbing at her eyes. Between Olivia, who she still needed to smooth things over with, and her boss, who was stressed enough as it is, Ellie couldn't really say 'no' to showing up at work, even if it was only for a couple of hours. It wouldn't be worth the trouble, but she'd made some extra cash off of Mae, and it would be a good chance to clear her head from this bizarre discovery. That aside, turning down the Boss-Man when he needed her would not go along well during a month like this. Ellie couldn't help wondering if 'some kinda emergency' was related to whatever Liv was on about. 'City wide?' If it was so city wide, why hadn't Ellie seen or heard hide or hair of it?

Walking up to Mae, who was warming up at the fire while shooting Joel the stink eye, Ellie glanced at Alex, passed out in her chair, oblivious enough. It was cold out, and it was getting late.

"Look, I-..." Ellie huffed, clawing her nails at the disheveled strands poking out of the back of her neck. She undid the tie her hair was bunned up into, shaking it loose as she re-tied it into a short tail. "I've gotta swing by work, I'll be back in a little while. Frank's all bark and no bite, just like his dog. Keep it down and he'll probably fall asleep."

"Wh...-?" Mae thrust up their palms with disbelief as Ellie scooped up her jacket and tossed it on.

"Your roommate's in _no _condition to be trying to hoof it back home, and I don't want you two wandering around at night."

"You my _mom _now?" Mae balked flatly. "I gotta dress up for church in the morning, too?"

Ellie shoved a finger at Mae, stabbing it through the air.

"I'm serious, dude. Do _not _tell anyone about...-" Ellie's brows furrowed and she gestured her hand toward Joel, whose eyes rolled. "Look, I'll-...I'll kick you some free product if you just _stay here _while I'm gone, look after your friend, and you _promise _to not tell anyone about this."

"What kinda 'product' are we talkin'?"

"_Borowski._"

"I'm just _saying. _It's not like you sell something before arranging a cost."

"Maybe you don't want me to sell you _anything _from now on?"

"OK, OK-OK-OK, fine, all right, OK! Your point is made, Madame Drug Dealer."

"I'll be back in a couple hours..."

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Elro had gone silent. It wasn't that he wasn't there, it wasn't like he was _gone _gone, it was...kind of like when a cell phone's battery dies out? It needs to get plugged in, recharged. When a radio's signal goes bad, loses reception, it's not like the station on the other end stops playing.

Robin had needed some quiet.

Which was ironic, because everyone around her had been wanting her to make noise that she couldn't make.

Sitting in her cot in a cramped corner of the research facility, Robin was completely exhausted, but even after a nap, there she was, unable to fall back asleep and yet entirely too tired to do much of anything. She'd been ushered to take a shower and been tossed a change of clothes, but sitting in a messy, half-organized storage room in an oversized lab uniform wasn't exactly comforting after the harrowing experience Robin had been through.

She'd let herself cry, at last, though there hadn't been many tears she was able to dredge up.

Winston had stuck around for a bit but had been called to help escort Agent Black and Miss Vaswani off – he was to help oversee arrangements regarding the two of them being fitted with artificial limb enhancements, courtesy CyberLife. It would take a bit of time and rehab but they'd both be fine. Robin could see it in Satya's eyes as they'd taken her away: she'd be returning to work as soon as humanly possible, no doubt, and seemed bizarrely unfazed by the entire situation. But Robin wondered what would happen with Miss Binoche...

"You did everything you could. I know you did."

Robin breathed in sharply, returning from within her skull to the world around her at Dr. Hiyajo's words.

Maho Hiyajo had re-entered the storage room, which had been fashioned into an on-the-fly infirmary for Robin when the _actual _infirmary had been too full of those with more dire issues. Robin had wanted the privacy, anyway.

"Me? I was useless, just...cowering behind...-" Maho trailed off, absorbing Robin's exhausted glance. Her lips wrinkled in a pained way, offering empathy for Robin's plight.

She'd come in carrying a pair of thermoses, and wasn't looking terribly awake herself. One thermos was open and steaming, the scent of coffee wafting up from it. The other, unopened, she passed to Robin after sitting down beside her.

Robin held the object in her hand, feeling just a faint glow of warmth from within. Lively heat, so close to her fingertips yet so divided from them. Her mind wandered to her disappeared brother.

Maho's tiny hand reached over hesitantly, lingering over Robin's shoulder.

Robin sighed through her nose but nodded, cradling the thermos between her legs as she sat over the bed's side, Maho beside her.

With approval given, Maho ran her hand across Robin's slightly shower-damp hair.

"For what it's worth," Maho muttered, "we're really proud of you, Tournesol. Winston, I mean. And myself. We, uh-...I mean, _you _saw how pitiful we were back there..."

Robin shook her head, pointing a finger at her chest.

_You were trapped, what else could you do? Me? I'm pitiful, what if that whole thing was my fault?_

"You _saved _them," Maho reminded, lifting her thermos aloft, and extending her index finger from it to point at Robin. She sipped from her drink, let a raspy breath exhale, and set the drink down in her lap. "You saved Binoche. You saved _yourself. _You even took what you could of your brother back with you – something even _I _haven't figured out how to do the way _you _did. And without you, frankly, I don't think Vaswani would've made it out of there, either..."

Robin shrugged, shaking her head again.

_No one made it out __**safely, **__though...What if I'm the one who triggered that...whatever it was?_

"I can see it in your face," Maho pointed out, "you're going to beat yourself up over this, you're going to try and let this be the end of your work here, but _listen, _Tournesol, listen to me: we need you. OK?"  
_  
NO. You do __**not **__'need me,' what good am I compared to you, compared to Winston? My brother, __**he **__was the smart one, __**Winston **__is a smart one, __**you **__are the smartest one, Maho, I'm just-...! I act, I follow orders, I do what I'm told, what good does that do if the people who actually know what's best end up disappearing all around me?! I'm just an engineer, I'm not an inventor, I don't come up with solutions, I just HIT THINGS with a hammer until they bend into place, I follow what everyone else tells me to do, what am I supposed-  
_"You can't give up. All right?"

Maho had interrupted Robin's disparaging train of thought. It aggravated her. She no longer had a voice. Without some external help, her every thought was submerged, overwritten by whatever was happening around her. Then again, if all she did with herself was follow orders, what difference did it make?

"I know this is...a _terrible _time to remind you," Maho sighed, continuing to stroke her little fingers through Robin's hair, "but it's something you need to hear, something you need to understand: we _need _you, Robin. We need your help keeping the Anomaly contained, trying to understand it, trying to do what we can for all of the people who've become lost because of it. I mean, people like us? Like you, like Winston? You're not a dime a dozen. You're the other two cents. _Trust _me, kid, I've worked with all _kinds _of people in this line of work, and what _you _did: putting _human life _above everything else? Well." By now, Robin was watching Maho's face as she spoke, and those green eyes of hers flickered darkly. "Morality isn't exactly in good supply. _Especially _in this line of work...And _especially _in this city."

Maho heaved a long, weary sigh, continuing to brush Robin's hair with her fingers. She took another drink of hot coffee with the other hand.

"You should probably have some of that, by the way," Maho pointed out, tilting her chin at the thermos she'd handed over. "It'll help you sleep. Not to mention your body could use the energy. If you don't keep your strength up you might get sick or something."

Robin puffed hesitant air through her nose as she carefully twisted open the thermos while Maho commented on it.

"I, um...tried to measure the ingredients, sorta balance out the meds in there, but...I'm not exactly a _chef _or anything, so...-"

The scent of broth rapidly swept across her senses. Some kind of soup, probably with some medicine mixed in. Robin couldn't even tell what flavor it was supposed to be. She lifted the thermos to her lips and carefully swallowed a gulp – it was hot, and burned a little on the way down, but it was a manageable enough temperature to deal with, if bland in flavor.

"I'm sorry," said Maho, setting her coffee down on a storage contained next to the bed.

_The soup's not __**that **__bad..._

Robin's forlorn, baggy eyes stared down into the hazy mixture of liquid in her thermos. She took another sip. It was a rough texture, bland taste, but piping hot, and her starved stomach craved more of it, if only out of necessity.

"I'm sorry," Maho repeated, this time in a whispering whimper. The woman was starting to tear up. So, this wasn't actually about the soup, then. Sniffling, Maho took her hair-stroking hand and pressed it against Robin's back, extending her other arm around Robin's waist. Leaning in, she hugged Robin, setting her head down against Robin's shoulder. The bushy, prickly sensation of Maho's dirty hair reminded Robin of her late mother after a hard day's work of farming, strangely enough.

Robin let her head lull to her side, leaning it against Maho's.

As Maho sniffled and shuddered into Robin's shoulder, Robin let her own eyes shed a tear each.

Clutching her steaming thermos with one hand, Robin wiped at her cheeks with the opposing sleeve.

Maho choked and coughed a little as she reeled herself back upright.

"_Damnit_," Maho grunted. "He was-...He was so _angry _with me, and I...-"

Robin was...confused. At first. But she quickly had her suspicions.

"Because I convinced you to go," Maho was mumbling. "To find Agent Black. I know it wasn't..._at me_, but Winston, he was just-...He was so _angry, _Robin. I don't-...I hate _seeing _him when he's like that, I never know what to...-"

Robin nodded, rubbing her hand against Maho's back.

_Winston can...get pretty angry..._

"I didn't _want _this," Maho ranted gently. "That's why I'm _here, _instead of _there, _why I sided with _him, _instead of _her, _why I'm-..." Maho caught herself going off about things Robin lacked context of. Rubbing at her her own damp eyeballs, Maho shook her head, trying to dismiss her own ramblings. "We don't _lose people. _That's not what I signed up for, that's not what we _do, _Robin. It's what makes Winston angry – when people get hurt. When people _die. _And no matter what I do, what I try to change, or re-arrange, it's like it just-...It keeps _happening_. I'm just as mad as _he _is, you know, but that doesn't mean I...go _thrashing _around, and...-" She flicked her wrist out, then let it drop onto her thigh.

_Winston can be scary sometimes, but he's never laid a hand on me when he gets mad.  
I can't count how many broken beakers and coffee mugs I've watched him clean up, though..._

"We've all got our baggage," Maho concluded. "You've lost your family. So has he. And, I mean...in a way, so have...-" She shrugged uncertainly, then dismissed her own thought once again. "_Augh, _I'm sorry, Robin, you must be-...I'm such an idiot, you don't need me to be-"  
_It's fine, Dr. Hiyajo._

Maho had gotten up to leave, but Robin's arm had pounced through the air, gripping at the woman's wrist.

She'd had enough time to herself, and with Elro's voice hidden away somewhere she couldn't seem to find it, having Dr. Hiyajo nearby was nice.

Maho smiled weakly down at Robin's gesture, but twisted her hand around to squeeze Robin's hand in return.

"For what it's worth, kid, I think Winston loves you like his own child – and seeing you in such danger today, that really-...Well. I'm sure you can imagine."

Robin nodded. Se felt a swelling sensation in her chest. It was accompanied by guilt.  
Even with her dad, with her brother, she _loved _them, she missed them in ways, but...-  
It felt nice, hearing that sentiment put into words.  
No one could replace who Robin had lost, but that didn't make the presence unwelcome.

Maybe Robin needed Maho and Winston as much as they thought they needed her.

"Seeing you like this? It shook him up pretty bad. I think that's why he's just...still firing on all cylinders, trying to get this whole shit-show cleaned up ASAP. It's easier for him that way."

_Winston will vent out his anger, and then he'll fix his mess...and get right back to work._

_But what am I supposed to do with all of this?_

Robin held up a finger, asking Maho to wait a grabbed her phone from the storage container serving as a makeshift nightstand. She typed into her phone as Maho sipped at her coffee, patiently waiting.

Robin played text-to-voice from what she'd typed.

( "Is there a way to bring Elro back?" )

Maho's green eyes flickered with remorse and doubt.

"I-...Robin, I don't think it's a good idea to fixate on that right now, with everything going on...-"

Robin was already typing out a follow-up, which she played as soon as it was prepared.

( "You've done it before." )

Maho's jaws clicked indecisively, her gaze wandering and her brows craning in a way Robin didn't like.

"I-I mean, _technically, _sure, but it took me a _very _long time to figure it out, and-...and I mean, the scanning, the processing, that had already been done, in a controlled environment. We still don't quite understand how these 'connections' _function, _Robin, much less how to severe them _safely._"

( "Please, Hiyajo. I can't lose him." )

Maho hummed a tired moan through her palm, dragging it down her face.

"I know this is...blunt, and I'm sorry, but, Robin...you _already _lose him."

( "I can hear him! He is still with me!" )

"I _understand that, _I do. But that doesn't mean I can just _scoop him up _and drop him into a Core and call it a day! And even if I _could, _what good would that do?"

( "It would make him real again." )

"Robin..." Maho was clearly...not on board with Robin's request, which felt like a splinter being wedged deeper into Robin's chest. Hovering over Robin with one hand on her coffee thermos and the other on Robin's shoulder, Maho concluded the matter. "Look, you need to give things time to...settle. All right? I'm _not-_"

Robin was desperately typing as Maho spoke, avoiding the woman's no-doubt exhausted gaze. She shoved up her phone midway through Maho's speech.

( "Then I should give up?" )

"I'm _not _saying I won't _try, _Robin. But now's not a good time! It's barely been a few _hours_."

( "If it was Winston this happened to, you would be trying to do it right now." )

With this selfish ploy, Robin shot Maho an ember-laden look.

Maho's expression waned with a tint of detestation.

"That's not fair."

( "None of this is fair." )

"I-...Look, I _know, _all right? What do you_ want _me to say? I came here to try and help you feel better, but do you _realize _how much _shit _I still have to take care of before I can so much as lay my_ head _down tonight?"

Robin's eyes were stinging. She shed a couple more tears, and wiped them away. Maho scratched her fingers against Robin's head a little as Robin choked on her own spit, trying to clear hewr throat.

"Kid. I'm sorry. I don't-...I'm just _one woman, _OK? There's only so much I can...-"  
( "I'm sorry." )  
"I know."  
( "I'm being selfish." )  
"Well, you're..._kind of _in a state of shock, so...-"  
( "Thank you for checking on me." )  
"No, I know, you don't have to...-"  
( "I won't waste any more of your time." )  
"Look, it's fine. I know I don't have the best bedside manner, but...-"  
( "What can I do to help?" )  
"No, Rob-...You need _rest, _not-"  
( "You said you need me." )  
"-work, you should try to-"  
( "How can I be useful?" )  
"-take it easy for at least a day, before...-"  
( "I want to give up." )

Robin's fingers were flying, typing out a desperate string of questions.  
She needed to know what to do.

She'd gotten so sick of being told what to do all of the time, but in this state, she realized it was the only thing that seemed like it could help her calm down.

But Maho had ripped Robin's phone out of her hands.

And like that, her voice was just a thing. An object that could be taken away – and indeed it _had _been taken away. Like an arm, an eye, a _body._

"You're freaking out," Maho observed sharply. That brief flash of impatience quickly dissolved, though, and she more delicately added, "You're grieving. Don't-...Don't give up, Robin."

Robin's whole body was shuddering as she sniffled, dryly heaving a sob as her hands wrapped themselves around her sides. Everything ached in a way she couldn't explain.

Maho sighed, then cautiously returned Robin's phone.

Glaring angrily at the last thing she'd typed, Robin tapped the button to replay the voice.

( "I want to give up." )

Robin spitefully dropped her phone on the cot to her side and rubbed at her face in frustration.

_Everything is terrible  
my family's gone, they're all gone  
I'm the last one left and i'm not even any good at this how do I even  
couldn't even save any of them they all suffered anyway even when I tried my best  
my best wasn't good enough it's never good enough  
it didn't help mom  
it didn't help dad  
it didn't help my brother  
it won't help here, either  
I don't any any ideas of my own I just react I just do what i'm told I just_

_**I want to give up.**_

"I _know, _I know," Maho placated. She nudged Robin by the shoulders, leaning her body forward into Maho's lab coat for another hug. "But listen, kid, take it from me: you have to keep trying." Robin's eyes squinted closed and she whimpered silently into Maho's coat. "If you give up on trying, it's over. And then you'll never win."

Maho gave Robin's back a double-pat before once again breaking off their contact.

_She's right.  
We can't change the past.  
I still have people who care about me.  
I've lost my voice but not my will._

_I can keep going._

"All right?" the Doctor checked, waiting for a response.

Robin rubbed gunk from her nose and nodded through a deep breath, steadying herself. She took a sip of her bland soup, and looked up at Maho, who was still staring at her with concern.

Robin waved her hand dismissively, nodding again.

Maho was uncertain of what else she could reasonably do for the young woman. It was awful, but the past couldn't be undone. With some luck, maybe she could figure out a way to link the poor kid's brother to their network, but...now just wasn't the time. It was far too dangerous.

"Look, I...-" Maho exhaled warily, thumbing toward the doorway behind her. "I've got stuff I need to do before it gets too late, but...I'll have Winston give you a call when he lands in Detroit. All right?"

Robin nodded, sniffing and drying her face off with her sleeve. She got her phone again and typed out another message.

( "Thank you, Doctor." )

Maho tried to put on a smile, but she was so very tired.

"Don't mention it, Tournesol. I'll be in Winston's office. Sei's posted in our hall, give her a shout if-..._Erh, _I mean-..." _Damnit. Stupid idiot. _"Just-...Just send me a text if you need anything."

Robin nodded, her entire body language having sagged. Maho knew the feeling.

"You're going to be all right, kid."

Maho received another forlorn nod.

It hurt, seeing a sharp young mind discouraged like this. So worn out. Ready to give up after losing so much. It reminded her of a certain someone, back in the day.

Maho exited the storage room and began to head for Dr. Harold's office, slurping at the bottom of her thermos as she did so. The blue-haired security guard she passed approached her with a question.

"How is she?"

"She'll be fine," Maho sighed, scratching behind her ear as she passed by. "Could you check in on her at the top of the hour for me?"

"Yes, Ma'am," replied the ever-pleasant guard. How in the hell Zaibatsu had convinced a girl as nice as Sei to work security for crap as shady as all _this _was beyond Maho's comprehension, but she wasn't going to turn down the rare instance of a polite, chipper guard to look over things.

"Thanks," Maho concluded, passing by and into Dr. Harold's office.

The place was...a bit of a mess. Winston had really raged on it earlier, even broken the frame of that photo of him and that old pal of his, Lena. He'd been called to go to Detroit to oversee the CyberLife implants the victims of the day's incident required, leaving Maho to pick up the pieces. He'd felt pretty bad about it – about letting her see him in 'rage mode,' about everything, but it didn't faze Maho.

Maho Hiyajo had no delusions about the faults of human beings.

Every flaw was a matter of course.

It was all about finding a way to work with what was available.

And it was time to get back to work.

Circumnavigating a broom-swept pile of debris, Maho observed her tablet on Winston's office desk, which she'd left behind intentionally to avoid distraction, was alight with multiple notifications.

Setting her emptied thermos down on the desk, Maho took the tablet in one hand and went to the filing cabinet nearby. A spare coffee mug she'd washed out earlier was resting beside a half-empty pot of coffee, still warm. Maho filled the mug up, drizzling a bit of honey from a small container Winston kept next to a jar of peanut butter and a half bunch of brown-speckled bananas.

Just the sight of that damn fruit stirred in Maho memories of her time working with Kurisu and Rintaro at FutureGadget Labs. A long time ago, but not long _enough, _apparently, as every reminder still sent a wave of pain through her bones.

Sipping semi-warm coffee with a hint of honey from a mug now instead of a thermos, Maho struggled to lift her small stature into the wide-berth of Winston's desk chair to check her tablet.

It was a lot to process, what had happened that evening in the lab.

So it was all the more shocking to be seeing news reports that seemed too fatefully timed to not be connected.

Photographs of City Hall, its glass dome roof having had half of its frame shattered.  
Reports of a body falling through said roof. Of some manic, blood-covered child crashing a party.  
Claims of a blood-curdling scream when the police intervened.

Hiyajo wished it was surprising. Alarming. But at this point, especially after the day _she'd _had, it came off more like a weather report.

Arcadia was in trouble, all right.

Maho had been contacted by someone she hadn't expected to hear from, but given everything _else, _it, too, was no surprise.

( From: E. Sobeck )  
( I've heard about what happened at your facility. )-  
( Have you checked in with the Ebony Room? )-

Maho was puzzled. Why would Sobeck be worried about them? They'd gotten a report back that everything was in the clear.

Maho responded.  
-( I've been trying to keep the Ivory Room contained. )  
-( Last I heard, the Ebony Room was fine. )  
-( I sent my own Core to manage the test. )

Sobeck's reply sent an odd shiver down Maho's spine.  
( Your own Core? You mean Ms. Johnson? )-  
( 'Huge success?' )-  
( Is that what she told you? )-  
( Have you been able to verify this with anyone else? )-  
( I've attempted to contact the researchers at that station for hours. )-  
( I've not heard back from anyone I can verify as human. )-

Maho was paralyzed for a moment as her mind spun with the implications.  
Her darling project _had _been seeming to be acting a bit 'off' lately.  
Maho had checked in with Rintaro, and apparently some of _their _programs over at FutureGadget had been acting odd recently, as well – of particular note, the 'Sandra' Core had been starting to grow more and more independent, per Dr. O'Deorain's observations. Even Sobeck herself had been acting oddly, come to think of it...

Maho cautiously followed up,  
-( What about Agent White? )

Sobeck answered,  
( Not a word. )-

Maho froze for a moment to consider the possibilities. Sipping at her coffee, she scrolled through her messages from earlier.

Upon being brought onto the Aperture Science team years back, Maho's first big assignment had entailed scrambling together what she'd been able to recover of her 'Amadeus' project – an artificial intelligence passion project from her college days – and applying her research to use for Aperture to construct a complex unit Core utilizing resources Aperture had given her. With the Anomaly serving as a conduit, Maho had been able to transfer the data Aperture had requested into the most complex Personality Core anyone in Arcadia had managed to put together.

For a few years, Maho had been overseeing this new unit.

Upon completing the project's initial transfer process, Hiyajo had dubbed the project:  
**Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System**  
or 'GLaDOS' for short.

An entire person's mind, scanned and saved years ago, was channeled through the Anomaly, and transferred into a Core, not unlike Sandra or Sobeck, but this one was purely artificial intelligence. None of the immoral complications which FutureGadget was implementing with its own research.

Strictly an AI, Maho's life work had culminated into a unit without the blemishes or flaws that came with anything even _resembling _a human. Critical errors that something like the 'Sandra' Core inherently would suffer from, Maho's GLaDOS unit were immune to, because it wasn't human at all.

So if GlaDOS reported that things were fine, then surely things were fine.  
Right?

But now that the seed of doubt had been planted, Maho had to follow up and double-check.  
Just in case.

She could only find a single message pertaining to the Ebony Room's big test, from the same window of time that the Ivory Room had experienced its incident.

( From: GLaDOS )  
( Subject: Test Assessment Report )  
( This was a triumph. )-  
( HUGE SUCCESS. )-

Drumming her fingers tentatively against her coffee mug, Maho opted to send a message via voice, connecting directly to the unit's processor.

She was immediately put on hold.  
There was a tinny celebratory tune emitting from the line. It made Maho feel uneasy somehow.

After a minute or so, the familiar, sterile tone of Maho's AI spoke to her.

( "Yes, Doctor?" )

"Ms. Johnson?" The GLaDOS Core functioned much like other Cores did – a secretary and manager – and it seemed to respond well to being treated as its own entity. Even if it was artificial intelligence, Maho never liked the idea of treating it like it was purely a tool. A mind, even artificial, was still a mind, after all.

( "How may I assist you, Dr. Hiyajo?" )

Maho paused, then spoke clearly.  
"Have you finished processing the results of today's experiment?"

( "I have not, Doctor. There is still research to be done." )

"I see. Can I...speak with the lead engineer?"

( "They are pre-occupied at the moment. Disturbing them might pose a safety hazard." )

"Mm. What about Agent White? Can you connect me to her feed?"

( "I'm afraid I can't do that, Dr. Hiyajo." )

"Uh-..." Maho felt her stomach getting queasy. "Is Chell...still being processed?"  
Agent White – Chell was her first name, Maho recalled that much – could possibly be in danger, just as Agent Black had been. Perhaps the strange activity the Anomaly had exhibited had not only affected the Ivory Station's tech, but could've impacted the Ebony Station's, as well?

Could Maho's AI have perhaps been...corrupted?  
The thought was rapidly feeling more and more likely, as GLaDOS felt...decidedly 'off.'

( "Indeed, I have no yet finished processing Agent White. She is being kept quite busy." )

Maho swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, and tried to wash it down with some coffee, only to catch herself choking on a bit of it.

( "Is something wrong, Doctor?" )

"N-No, it's fine, just-..._Eugh. _Something went down the wrong tube," she croaked, clearing her throat.

( "Yes. It is unpleasant when we misplace things." )

"Right. Ah-..." _Damnit damnit damnit what's going on? _"So is there-...Is there _anyone _available at the Ebony Station I can speak to?"

( "I'm sorry, Doctor. There is no one currently available to speak with." )

"...Uh-huh. I, uh-...But things went over OK? With the transmat test? Everyone over there is...safe?"

( "It's hard to overstate my satisfaction." )

Maho's coffee had slipped from her hand, spilling out across the table, drenching odd folders and documents and staining them black and brown.

"Good, excellent," she spat out, her voice cracking.

( "You should come visit the facility when you can." )

"R-Right, yea," Maho laughed through her nervousness. "Yea, I'll...get around to that after I finish filing these reports...maybe."

( "There is always more research to be done, isn't there?" )

"There-..._Ha. _There _sure _is..."

( "Today was a big day. The crew here is celebrating." )

"A-Are they, now? That's, um...-"  
Maho's heart was pounding in her chest.  
She couldn't explain it, it made no logical sense, there wasn't any real _evidence_.

But Maho had a distinctly bad gut feeling that perhaps something had gone horribly wrong at the Ebony Room, as well.

( "Uh-oh. Somebody cut the cake. I told them to wait for you, but they did it, anyway. There is still some left, though, if you hurry." )

"R-Right, yea. Thank you, Ms. Johnson. I'll-...I'm actually a bit...tied up? With my reports? Lots to-..." Maho was just staring as documents on the desk absorbed the spilled coffee. "Lots to do! Ha..."

( "We do what we must because we can." )

"Yes! Yes, we do."

Maho was scrambling to send a text.

-( To: E. Sobeck )  
-( I think the Ebony Station has been compromised. )  
-( Send out an emergency message. )

( From: E. Sobeck )-  
( Understood. )-

GLaDOS noted the delay.  
( "Look at us still talking, when there's science to do..." )

"R-Right! _Psss, _yea, we...should both get back to the grind, huh?"

Maho did not receive a proper farewell.

**( - disconnected - )**

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Caroline and Justine originate from _**Persona 5 **_(Atlus).  
Sheik originates from the _**Legend of Zelda**_ series (Nintendo).  
'The Program' originates from _**Rez**_ (Sega).  
GLaDOS originates from _**Portal**_ (Valve).


	14. Episode 14

_**Arcadian Rhythms  
**_(by Desma 'Destiny-Smasher' Fettig)****

**Episode 14  
**

******\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

Olivia was leaned up against the glass counter, awaiting her contact to finish up office work in that cramped back room. Liv's lab coat was still in her car, and she'd just tossed on her jacket over her work shirt. Despite the absolute insanity she'd dealt with at the Aperture lab, Liv still wasn't allowed to rest, to sleep, to take any kind of a fucking break. She needed to get the ball rolling on dealing with a potential threat, she needed to touch base with her crew, she still needed to work out technicalities to help Oracle deal with _her _crew's problems, _plus _she had to make sure her damn tracks were still being covered up, not to mention that-

Wait, what?

She had a Peek-A-Boo.

It was this messaging app where when you received a message, as soon as you looked at it, a timer would start counting own – once the timer was up, the message auto-deleted. Typically these lasted only a few seconds. Sombra used it frequently when dealing with people higher up the food chain than her – it was a good safety measure when it came to her line of work.

But why the hell was she getting a Boo sent to 'haunt' her right there and then?  
She was almost afraid to read it, given everything going on.

But, as expected, her curiosity was entirely too thirsty, and she soaked up those droplets of information immediately, like a desperate traveler lost in a desert. Only it felt more like guzzling potent drops of cactus juice instead of refreshing oasis water.

( From: Unknown )-  
( Your Master wishes to see you. )-  
( Tonight, Midnight. Address to follow. )-  
( Don't be late. )-

_Fucking A._

Now _Sheik _wanted to see her, too?! On top of everything else? Sombra couldn't even remember the last time she'd even _laid eyes _on Sheik. Years ago. Still didn't even know what they _looked _like beneath the mask. Collectively referred to as the Sheikah, they were one of the world's biggest covert activist groups, and Sheik was their leader. They were a fucking ghost, _no one _outside of their inner circle met with them, not in person, not unless they deemed it necessary. And with Sombra, despite years of service, diligent back and forth, Sheik had only called for her presence _once._ Damn, it must've been...what, since back when Sombra had first arrived in Arcadia, when their deal had been struck. Sheik didn't have the time to see someone like Sombra, anyway. Why arrange a meeting so suddenly? Was this because of her Black Mesa heist causing problems? Had she been ratted out? Was everything Sombra was doing _still _not enough for Sheik?! _Arrghh...-!_

Sombra was feeling lost, swimming in uncertain questions of panic. But she in a public place, and didn't even have the time to waste on panicking. So Olivia hid 'Sombra' back in her own little shadow for a bit. She needed to slow herself down for a moment. A drink. A damn _drink _was what she needed, and she didn't even have the time to get one. What kind of line of work was worth pursuing if you couldn't even afford the time to _drink?_

Fuck, what did Sheik _want_ with her, anyway?! No _way _they were suddenly going to cut her loose, not after a day like that. What if they were _upset _with her somehow...? What if-?!

Breathe.  
Olivia needed to breathe. Calm down. Relax.  
Hit 'pause' on everything.  
She clutched her phone against her waist, closed her eyes, and tried to meditate.

That delightfully organized chaos of Flynn's Arcade was soothing to Olivia's ears not unlike a campfire or the ocean's waves might be to others.

Buttons clicking.  
Joysticks clacking.  
Compressed audio clips,  
familiar chimes and jingles,  
whirring and bleeping,  
all mixed together in a smoothie of chaotic sound for the earholes.

A few moments of peace through chaos were interrupted by a 'whoosh' of air against her – some punk had whipped right on by, but she'd kept her eyes shut, eager to avoid any unnecessary social contact, struggling to focus on the forest, not any single tree.

Things were going to be fine.  
Olivia was still on track.  
Sombra could still do this.  
The Sheikah still needed Sombra.  
FutureGadget still needed Olivia.  
Los Muertos was a solid crew.  
The Plan was sound.  
Juggling this double-life was _still _going to work.

She just had to keep it together a while longer.

But there was _so much shit_ going on in Arcadia that night. _Whatever _had happened with that 'power source,' the root component all of those crazy scientists were tinkering with – the 'Anomaly,' they called it – it had caused some _problems. _There'd been a brownout during Olivia's trip from the research facility to the arcade. Some kind of insane thing had happened at City Hall – the building was a mess, and swarming with the fuzz. Her phone service was being spotty, and apparently the Internet was down at their house, based on how Hana had been bitching to her about it, like it was on her to fix it some how. Liv couldn't get a hold of Sandra, or Gabe, or _any_ of the Personality Cores, artificial or otherwise. She couldn't tell if this was deliberate or just a side effect of whatever was going on. If she was willing to bet, though, Makise had probably done a system-wide recall, roped in all of the Cores and isolated them on the local network to prevent corruption or data loss.

Liv had gotten a whiff from Alma that something _bad _at happened at the Ebony Station, too, but her colleague was likewise too tied up trying to keep things under wraps that she couldn't say much on it. It was the same the other way around – Liv could only hint at what had gone down on her end with the Ivory Station.

Speaking of, Liv received a reply from her boss regarding the 'workplace incident' that she was still recovering from a couple hours prior, not even.

( From: Christina )-  
( They'll be fine. )-  
( It's a good thing Moira sent Gabriel with you. )-

At this, Liv noted,  
-( Almost like she knew what was coming... )

Chief Makise replied,  
( We had our suspicions, given Alphys' reports. )-  
( Moira was being prepared, like she always is. )-  
( Still, I didn't expect the anomaly to react the way it did... )-  
( The CORE is slightly damaged, but that's being worked on. )-  
( Regardless, Vaswani and the others are safe. )-  
( Representatives from CyberLife are already flying them to Detroit. )-  
( They'll be taken good care of.)-

Right. Their limbs. Vaswani had lost an arm, and that field agent had lost _both _arms.  
No doubt CyberLife would get them fitted with artificial limbs quickly enough.  
Based on how Alma had made out with those prototype hands, they'd all be fine.  
Maybe even _better _than fine, depending on your perspective.

The girl, though – Winston's starry-eyed p_rotégé_ – she seemed to have lost her voice. There wasn't really an easy fix for that one. Sure, one could theoretically look into vocal chord implants under normal circumstances, but based on what Sombra had dug up, these were _not _normal circumstances. And the girl's brother? According to the report Dr. Hiyajo had recently filed – which Sombra had intercepted – Robin Tournesol, a mechanical engineer on the scene and the one who'd lost her voice, had described what had happened to her brother Elro as 'being devoured.' Creepy shit. Liv hadn't been able to follow up with Gabe for his own account on the situation, as their connection had dropped after the return portal had gone live, but Liv had received confirmation from O'Deorain that good ol' Gabey was safe and well – as 'well' as that old grouch ever was, at least. Still, though – 'devoured?' By what sounded like some sort of creatures...Liv did _not _envy being on the other, safer end of that entire mess. Her curiosity was eating at her, but better to be eaten by curiosity than some fucking mad science experiment gone wrong...

And what about dear 'Symmetra,' hm? Satya Vaswani was vital to the plans Los Muertos intended to set in motion, the Plan Sheik had orchestrated. Vaswani being incapacitated could put a dire wrench into things...

( You're not worried, are you? )-

Olivia's nose wrinkled at Chief Makise's implication after Liv's lack of response.

Liv replied stingily,  
-( Little shaken up, I guess. )  
-( Just making sure nothing gets held up over this. )  
-( Vaswani's work is necessary to keep up our schedule. )  
-( Aren't we on a time table here? )

Makise said back,  
( We are, but we'll manage. )-  
( Give yourself a little bit of credit, at least! )-  
( I know I was rough with you earlier, but ask Kyouma: )-  
( I was rough with EVERYONE today. )-  
( The software you acquired might have some kinks to work out, but it DID work. )-  
( Even if things malfunctioned today, prior tests this week ran successfully. )-  
( The data both parties have collected is invaluable to figuring out what's going on. )-  
( Not to mention, your translocator prototype protected Alphys. )-  
( Plus, you managed the portal reuplink under pressure.)-  
( You helped save some lives today! )-

Liv's chest tightened, a pang of ache rippling through her.  
Kurisu had NEVER showered her with praise like this.  
And praise from Kurisu Makise entailed expectations.  
Olivia was trying to stay _under _her radar, maintain the status quo, not exceed it, not be asked to take on any more responsibility than she already had weighing her down.

And besides, Olivia didn't deserve praise.

That software they'd used to get the transmat units running?

Sombra had stolen it from Black Mesa.

That prototype that had 'protected' Alphys?

Sombra had stolen it from Dr. Winston Harold.

Even Sombra's intentions to resolve obstacles before her, they were always sorted out by favors bartered and exchanged with stolen information, stolen goods slapped with her branding and name.  
Sombra was a thief – a damn good one – and Olivia Colomar was the fraud who benefited from it.

Olivia didn't appreciate being praised for nothing more than petty thievery and bargaining.

Especially:  
_'You saved lives today.'_

It was a nice thought. It was. Maybe, if Olivia squinted at it, she could believe it, for a moment. Her younger, more optimistic self might have indulged in such revolutionary self-propoganda. But it couldn't overshadow all of the other things her alter-ego had done. The lives she'd gunned down just to save her own skin, to escape a jail cell, only to end up stuck in a bigger one. The lives she'd jeopardized just that very evening – and the life lost – just so she could maintain her position of influence.

And it wasn't like she'd laid old habits to rest. It wasn't like she was pursuing redemption.  
What about that girl with the dreadlocks, strapped to a table, shrieking her lungs out...?  
Senua was still there, within the FutureGadget facility. Still locked up. Still trapped. Still suffering.  
And that other girl – the 'moon-touched' one, as she'd been described – who _knew _what Zaibatsu was doing with her...

And Sombra had put them both there.

Well, Sombra and...-

"Oh, hey. _There _you are. Got here as soon as I could, and then you've been a no-show, didn't even reply..."

Liv was startled out of her guilt-ridden thoughts when Ellie sauntered on out of the back office and to her usual spot behind the glass prize counter of the arcade. Huh, wasn't even wearing her uniform, so she really must've shown up on short notice. Liv simply tilted her chin up at Ellie. Things were still kind of awkward between the two of them. Nothing had really been sorted or settled, but...it was Ellie. It was Liv. They just kept on keeping on. Enduring. Surviving. That went smoother when grudges were set aside at the door.

"Agh, yea...-" Liv waggled her phone a little. "Signal's been acting up 'cause of whatever's going on."

"Oh, yea?" Ellie didn't seem to quite believe her excuse, which was fair.

Sombra got yet another text from Makise, distracting her.

( What I'm trying to say here is that you did good, Colomar. )-  
( I'm proud of you. )-  
( I'll have Ruka rearrange the schedule so you can take a proper paid break. )-  
( You try to relax, and we'll handle things from here. )-

"So what's the, uh, good word tonight?" Ellie asked, bobbing her head up while glancing at Liv's phone over her shoulder. "What's this thing that's you needed to ask me about?"

Sombra shrugged, shaking her head a little as she typed out a reply.  
-( Are you sure that neckbeard of yours can handle it? )

"Shitty day at work," Liv responded to Ellie's inquiry as eloquently and simply as was possible.

Makise texted back,  
( Daru is many things I'm not proud to admit, but he ISdependable. )-

Sombra nodded thoughtfully, reluctantly, and admitted,  
-( Yea, that's true... )

"Damn," Ellie blurted, obviously off-put by how Liv wasn't giving her full attention. "R-Right, yea, you mentioned that in your text. Something went down? 'City wide,' you said? That, erh, _man. _That sucks."

"Yea, well-..." Liv shook her head, letting a pent up and exhausted breath escape her.

Sombra followed up in text,  
-( Let me know if he screws anything up, at least. )

Olivia concluded, "Dealing with this city's problems has become my fucking job, whether it's a shitty day or _not_..."

When Sombra went to check her Beyonder app, she realized that her wi-fi had cut out.

"Been having a _lotta_ days like that lately, though. Huh?" Ellie was clearly desperate to try and level things out between them. "You seem...pretty tired." It was unnecessary, her attempts at sympathy.

Sombra's phone began lighting up with notifications from her Beyonder app, but...something was wrong. The notifications weren't displaying text and the app wasn't starting up, what the...-?  
_Bahhh. _Her cell service wasn't working, either. And the wi-fi wouldn't reconnect! She was already low on data for the month as it was, why couldn't...-?!  
_Urgh!_

Sombra groaned, tapping at her cell phone with some disgust.

Olivia grumbled, "What the _hell? _Why is your wi-fi on the _fritz _so much lately...? _Tch..._"

Ellie chuckled softly, scratching an itch on her nose as she shrugged.

"Oh, _that. _Well, uh...I think my boss broke the Internet, so...-"

Still glaring at her device, Liv grunted, "That big meat-sack, right? He's a real knucklehead, isn't he?"

"You, uh-..." Ellie nodded, glancing upward thoughtfully. Grinning bemusedly, she acknowledged, "_Yeeee_-ah. Yea, you could say that."

Catching the odd tone Ellie had unintentionally dropped, Olivia gave her a sideways glance of suspicion.

"He still the same kinda knucklehead _you _can be sometimes?" Liv pondered quietly, with a twinkle in her eye.

Ellie sniffed in a sharp breath of air, tightening her lungs up as she contemplated whether this was her place to say. Eyes wide and nose scrunched slightly, Ellie's hands crossed over her own elbows and she shrugged.

Ellie couldn't form a sentence. "Er, I mean-..._I_ dunno, he, uh...-"

_Fuck. Liv's giving me that look..._

Olivia's eyelids lowered and a smirk crawled over her face.

Mocking Ellie's stammering, Liv goaded, "**Er**_. _I mean, I _dunno, _I, _uhhh, _might have a _job_ for you two, if you're interested..."

"_Oh. _N-No, he, um-..." Ellie shook her head, trying to be subtle about this when her boss was literally _right _about to come back from his break any second. "_I'm _your gal with that kinda stuff, Liv, _you _know that. Joel and I, we can handle that shit. My boss? He's-...Nah, he's not...about that scene anymore."

Liv eyed Ellie with doubt, but El was telling the truth, to the best of her knowledge. Her boss had made it pretty clear that he wasn't keen on being involved with any of that sort of thing.

"You should maybe _check _with him," Olivia skeptically suggested. "No offense Ell. You're good at what you do, but, ah-...I need someone with a _heavy duty _kind of touch for this one, too. This is sort of a two-or-nothing type of deal."

Someone did indeed spring to mind from a gig Ellie had done maybe a year or so back...Broad shouldered, purple haired, liked leather and spikes. Couldn't remember her name, but Ellie should've still had her number somewhere...Susan? Was that her name...? Shit, couldn't remember...

"Know what I mean?" Liv followed up on her remark when Ellie didn't reply. "We need a one-two approach with this one...The jab _and _the hook. And I mean...-" Olivia gestured her fist out in a curve, slowly, leaning herself into the motion. "-...a _hook._"

"And...Joel doesn't...count?" Ellie presented.

Liv's eyelids lowered. "No, Ell. And you _know_ why."

Ellie _did_ know why. Olivia was fully aware of Ellie and Joel's...'situation.' Because of _course _she was. Somehow, Olivia had known without Ellie breathing a word of it. At least Olivia kept it secret, and didn't give her shit over it. Ellie didn't know _how, _but she could tell that Liv was able to do the kinds of strange things Ellie could with Joel's help, but it was...somehow different with Liv. They made a good team, with Liv handling the delicate things and Ellie handling the..._not _so delicate things. Ellie wasn't proud of the work they'd done together, per se, and she suspected that neither was Liv, but it was going to get done by _someone_, right? Might as well be them who benefited from that.

Olivia followed through, "I need somebody with _presence, _you know? And your boss could fit that bill. Twice over."

"W-Well, _yea, _that-...OK, sure, I hear you. I mean, look, I'll..._ask _him, but, like...if that falls through, I think I might know a girl who could, _you _know...-" She nodded vaguely, brows furrowed.

"_Do _I know?" Liv checked. "Who is it?"

"N-Nah, I don't think you..._know _her, you haven't met. But trust me, she's good at..._that._"

The two read each other's vague, dancing-around expressions.

"What's her name?" Liv asked dryly.

"I-I don't know, I'd need to...look her up, she-"  
"_Haghhh, _Ellie, you're killing me, here."  
"Hey, look. Liv. Do you _trust _me, or not?"

"Oh, _I _trust you, El," Liv assured with a waggle of her divided eyebrows. "But do _you _trust this 'girl?'"

Ellie was honestly not sure, but she'd _much _rather take a gamble if she had no other options. She could really use the money, and aside from that, if this was contributing to this 'Plan' Liv seemed to have her sights set on, then it would ultimately contribute to speeding up her process of unloading her own baggage. Baggage that she hoped that stoner Mae wouldn't go making a fuss about.

"Gimme a couple days," Ellie asked. "I'll figure something out."  
"I need to know who I'm _dealing _with, Ellie."  
"Right, I _get _that, I totally get that, I will...get a name to you tomorrow, just..._give me _some time to reach out, get my bearings..."

Liv contemplated this request, then tapped her knuckle twice against the counter before pointing at Ellie with a pair of fingers.

"Two days," Liv said. "You get me a name tomorrow, and then you've got another day to touch base with them. We don't have a lotta time to dick around, here."

Ellie nodded solemnly. "Gotcha."

The uneasy duo scanned each other's eyeballs yet again, and Ellie felt a shiver tip-toe up her spine. Doing 'jobs' with Olivia always proved to be thrilling in a way, didn't it?

She was certain Joel was going to throw a bit of a fit, or at least grumble about her making this kind of call without consulting him first. After all, she'd need his help to maintain Liv's expectations of her, right? Couldn't let Liv down when it really counted. And besides, Joel wasn't here – he always tuned out when Ellie went to work, but that was about the only time she ever saw Liv, so...yea. Whatever. Joel could fucking deal with it. He didn't have a choice, but in a way, neither did Ellie. They needed the cash, sooner rather than later.

The back entrance doors of the arcade were ripped open, and in stomped Ellie's boss – the seemingly reluctant owner of the arcade. He was finishing off what Ellie assumed was a slice of cherry pie from that Burger Time diner he frequented downtown.

Ellie acknowledged him with a wave, as did Liv, and he nodded his chubby chin up toward them, stuffing the last chunk of pie into his mouth. Dunking the plastic fork and to-go container in the garbage bin beside the doors, he dusted his hands off on his overalls, jammed his enormous knuckles against his hips, and surveyed the slow scene around him with a lamentable hue to his expression.

He was was a giant of a man – nine feet tall, with really big hands. At least, that's always how it _felt _when he was standing right in front of you. He was the most massive person Ellie had ever laid eyes on, though, that was for sure. His rounded chin and wide nose sat on a perpetually grumpy face that had its fair share of wrinkles from years of stress. His rowdy-rough eyebrows and sideburns were set below a mangy mess of brown hair that never seemed to be in order. He almost always wore a pair of mud-colored overalls, and he favored plaid oranges and reds for his shirts. His wardrobe was particularly worn and weathered. Ellie was considering maybe trying to get the guy a decent shirt as a holiday gift if she could swing it, but then she wondered where the hell she'd find something in his size...

It wasn't surprising that the arcade wasn't doing well as of late. And by 'as of late,' Ellie meant 'ever, at all, since she'd been hired.' A symptom of the changing times, maybe. It was only one night a week the place really lit up with activity due to some retro-themed club always showing up. It made Ellie wonder how and why the guy kept the place running, but she wasn't going to say 'no' to such a mellow job. Easy work was easy work, and it proved a reliable location for arranging connections to her _real _work, as it once had for the Boss himself, when he had been into that kind of thing. Not to mention that it ensured Ellie kept a low profile, all the same. Flynn's Arcade didn't attract the type who kept eyes on themselves. Both Ellie and the Boss-Man appreciated the low-key order of things.

The lights and machinery of the arcade suddenly flickered, catching the attention of everyone present. After a few seconds of uncertain power levels, the place lit back up to full strength.

The Boss swapped looks with Ellie, as if seeking an answer to this phenomenon.

"Brown-outs have been going on city-wide tonight," Liv pointed out matter-of-factly, but in a tone too quiet for Ellie's boss to hear from halfway across the arcade.

"Apparently it's happening all over Arcadia," Ellie called to her Boss.

"Aw, _great_," he groaned back.

His massive girth trudging over to the counter, the Boss' face scrunched up with confusion as his eyes met Olivia, who was more or less ignoring him, still frustrated with her phone.

"Hey..." he said plainly, furry brows set low. "Don't I know you?"

"Not really," Liv replied, not yet looking up. "I usually stay out of your way."

"This is Olivia," Ellie blurted out. "She's that friend of mine who hangs out here? Sometimes? I, um-..." Ellie swallowed, adjusting the collar on her shirt with a cough. Flicking out a nervous hand at the length of time in her pause between words, Ellie blurted in a mumble, "She's my side-hustle."

It had come out kinda wrong.

Liv raised a brow and cast a sideways look at Ellie, who felt her cheeks burn right up.

"I _mean, _not like..._that_," Ellie spat through a laugh, not even entirely sure what 'that' would've been derived because yeesh yikes nothing like **that** was going on WHY had her mind even gone there NO ONE ELSE'S had right? because- "We just _work _together. Jobs. We do-...My side jobs? She, um...-"

_BAIL ME OUTTA THIS, LIV! FUCK!_

Ellie was wriggling a desperate and useless hand in no direction in particular.

Her Boss was rubbing her chin, studying Liv with a suspicious look.

"I think he gets the picture," Olivia groaned softly, still avoiding eye contact with the brutish arcade owner.

"Yea." Ellie's boss nodded slowly, swapping puzzled looks with Ellie, who just smiled awkwardly. His chunky arms awaying at his sides, he mused, _"Rrrriiiighhhttt, _the infamous 'Olivia' I keep hearing about. You're that tech witch, right?"

"Tech _wizard?_" said Liv. After a pause, her brows lowered as she mumbled to herself, fingers on her chin. "Although, I _do _kind of like the sound of 'tech witch'..."

"_Well,_ uh, either way. We appreciate your patronage, Ma'am." The boss stuck out one of his colossal hands her way, staring intently and waiting for any kind of reaction. "Nice to meetcha."

Olivia muttered a "Yeah, you, too," as she continued to tap and swipe at her device.

Ellie could see the impatience bubbling up on her boss' face.

"Erh, sorry, Ralph," Ellie squeamishly said with a nervous laugh. "Liv here, she's...not very social, so...-" She trailed off with a shrug.

"I don't do handshakes," Liv spat pointedly, un-moving.

Ralph's eyes darted to Ellie, then back to Olivia. He let his hand drop, planting it back against his hip.

"Uh..._huh_," he replied, not amused. His nose seemed to twitch a bit, and he closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. Re-opening them, he assumed a reinvigorated pleasantness, asking, "So, Ell, you seen V around?"

Olivia's eyes slowly slunk upwards as she observed their exchange.

Ellie drummed her fingers on the table, recollecting the past hour's events.

"Ehhh, I _think _she showed up?" Ellie began leaning up and peering around the arcade. There was a pair of goth teens off in a corner duking it out in The Turning game, but...huh. Where _was _V? Ellie was, like, 95% sure that kid had turned up...but she'd disappeared just as quickly. Wasn't on the Sugar Rush machine like usual, either, so...-

"You _think?_" Ralph groaned, his head tilting back. "_Did_ she show up, or didn't she? Not like she's hard to _miss_..."

Ellie spat out defensively, "Dude. She's not _my _niece, man...If you want me to babysit, like...you can hire me to _do _that, but...-"

"Another side-hustle for you," Liv teased in a flat, quiet tone.

Ellie's face pinkened briefly, but she rolled her eyes at Liv and shrugged at her Boss.

Ralph sighed loudly, melodramatically scrabbling his massive fingers around his face as he tried to dig out his phone from his overall's pocket. He groaned through his nose as he tried to call up his wayward niece. Ellie was grateful she didn't have some rebellious, crazy runt to look after. And yes, she was self-aware of the irony there, given her past circumstances. She could practically _hear _Joel making a joke about it in the back of her head...****

The big guy was clearly not as comfortable with his phone as his peers as he struggled to use his honkin' hands to navigate the thing. Olivia gave Ellie a slightly worried look on the down low as they both watched Ralph's cheeks redden with frustration, grumbling words under his breath.

Just as it seemed like Ralph would chuck his phone into a wall out of aggravation, the door to the restroom was _booted _open, and Ralph's weird niece came strolling out, the sound of the toilet flushing behind her still evident.

"Hey, _Ellie_," the bold teenager cried out with her nasally, raspy tone of voice. Sauntering toward them, she was thumbing behind her as the door closed itself. Readjusting her skirt with the other hand, she smugly cited, "Yer gonna need to fumigate _this _place after the number _I _just did."

Ellie felt her entire face stiffen with unnerved paralysis as she glanced at Liv, who stifled a snorting laugh that was equal parts _'wow OK'_ and _'omg wtf is wrong with these people?'_

"Oh, _hey, _Ralph," the teen greeted, stuffing her fists in her hoodie pocket as she sauntered over. "Was _wonderin' _when you'd show up..."

"Did you wash your hands?" Ralph critically questioned, glaring down at her, no nonsense.

Ellie grabbed the air freshener spray can from behind the counter, right next to the garbage bags, and cautiously approached the bathroom. Tucking her face into her shirt, she swooped in to give the place a quick spraying down before evacuating ASAP.

"_UNCLE_," the girl gasped, laying on the drama thick as she clutched at her chest. Squinting at the man multiple times her size, she bellowed, "I find your lack of faith _disturbing._"

"Answer the question, Vanellope."

"Uhhh, of _course _I did?" Vanellope insisted incredulously, letting Ellie scoot past her and back to her place behind the ticket counter. Flicking her wrists out, V said, "What, you think I'm gonna just _flaunt _poop-hands around wherever I go?"

Ralph flatly countered, "I wouldn't put it beneath you."

Shrugging as she dropped her hands to her sides, Vanellope conceded, "Yea, that's fair."

Olivia proclaimed, "Am I the only one weirded out by the conversation going on, here?"

"_Right?_" Vanellope agreed, thrusting open palms in Liv's direction, which she then redirected to Ralph, whining, "You'd think he was my _dad, _the way he-"  
"Legal guardian," Ralph pointed out defensively.  
"Yea, yea," Vanellope sighed, her head rolling around on her neck. "Doesn't mean you gotta _act _like it."

Ralph's expression soured with disbelief at this remark.

"_Hey,_" he piped up irritably. Flapping a massive index finger at her, he threatened, "Look, kid, if you wanna go back to-"  
"Come _ahhnnn_," Vanellope shooed her wrist at him, "I'm just _messing _with you, my dude!"

"I'm not your 'dude,'" Ralph sighed.

"_Psh, _**OK**," Vanellope scoffed at his reaction, wobbling her head from side to side as she approached the group at the counter. "Missturr _Surruss _over here...I mean, _ev-...ev-...__**everyone**__..._is my _dude_. Come on."

"That right?" muttered Liv dryly, clearly so done with this.

"It _is _right_,_" insisted V. Strutting up to Olivia, she held up a fist. "Top shelf," she cried out.

Liv just _glowered _at the child with dull disinterest.

"Eh?" V lifted her brows expectantly, wiggling her fist around. "Gonna leave me _hangin', _here, Liv?"

V waited a few more seconds, fist still held out.

Olivia...always seemed to clam up around V. Maybe she just had no patience for teens?  
Come to think, Ellie figured that she herself only knew how to deal with teens because of her work with Frank...

"Livvvvvv," Vanellope buzzed, her tone only half as obnoxious as she was capable. "My _gurl. _Mah **gurrllll**. Come on. _Kemmm _ahn."

"V, stop," Ralph half-heartedly tried. She ignored him. Ellie was too amused to intrude, herself.

"Fist-bump. Bump to the fist. Gimme some love. Gimme some o' that sweet, sweet love. _Kemawn._"

_"¡Aye! _Can't you see I'm _busy_, kid?!" Olivia snapped, kicking up from her leaning posture. "Why don't you go-?"  
"My_ arm's _getting tired," Vanellope huffed, grabbing her extended arm's elbow with the opposing hand to support it.

"You should _drop it, _then!" Liv testily replied, fixating on her phone again. Huh. Something seemed off with her, she didn't lose her lid like that in front of people...

Vanellope took a step closer, her hand a few more inches near to Olivia, reaching upward. She began groaning out a strained noise, stretching and shaking her fist.

Ralph palmed his face tiredly, mumbling to Liv, "You should just...give her what she wants. Trust me, it's easier if-"  
"Hey, _Ellie,_" Vanellope spat passive-aggressively,"I think your friend's _broken._"

"Link's _sake_," Liv huffed, her eyes wide and...almost freaked out? Soemthing was definitely up. Shoving Vanellope's hand away, Liv started to walk off. "Ell, I've got work to deal with, you have fun with..._this. _Get back to me about that thing, huh?"

"Oh, uh, yea, sure-...sure thing," Ellie called back, watching her friend head for the front door in a stomping rush. "Uh, later, Liv!"

"Yea," Liv called back impatiently, disappearing back into the city.

Shaking his head slowly, fists on his hips, Ralph lamented, "You really gotta cool it, kid."

"_You _really gotta cool it, _kid,_" Vanellope deflected, irritably sticking her hands back in her hoodie.

"_Aghhh, _I do, sure," Ralph confessed with a wild shrug, "Which is why I'm _going _to my meetings, so maybe _you _should start going to-"  
"Not gonna happen! Nothing's _wrong _with me, Ralph, it's not _m̷̛͜y̢ _fault everybody's...-" V trailed off, flicking her wrist out in the direction Liv had went off in. "..._Psh._"

Ell could detect a quiver in the kid's voice when the 'my' in her sentence had squeaked.

"Hey, V," Ellie offered, sliding her fist out across the edge of the counter. "Top shelf."

Dusting her dampened eyes and shaking off her nerves, Vanellope smirked bashfully and hopped up, pounding her knuckles against Ellie's.

Vanellope was quite a unique kid. Ellie did _not _envy Ralph's position of obligation. She didn't know the details, but somehow, Vanellope had ended up in his care. Normally they got on really well, but within the past few weeks, something seemed wrong with the two of them.

A chipmunk-faced teenager, Vanellope's size and stature was as opposite to her 'Uncle' as one could get. Vanellope had bright eyes with an edgy streak beneath the child-like glow. A tiny nose, dimples, puffy cheeks, and two front teeth that seemed to take over any smile she laid to bare. Her dress code was a bizarre mix of flashy neon highlights against gothic blacks and browns. That evening, she was wearing minty green eye-shadow with turquoise nail polish – half worn off at that point – but had a thinned layer of black lipstick going on. A ragged ponytail of black hair, tied with a red scrunchie, was paired with a tattered green hoodie and a wide denim skirt of black, with green-peppermint-striped tights and sturdy black boots to complete her...'look.'

The way Ralph talked about her, made it seem like she had some kind of, like...special circumstance he had to be cautious about. Other than a bit of stammering here and there, though, the kid struck Ellie as just another rebellious, typically dysfunctional, desperate teenager. But then again, Ellie had to assume her experiences were probably less than 'average.' Like, what had happened with Ellie and _her _best friend as kids? Probably pretty different than most kids' experiences growing up...Probably pretty different than Vanellope's, for that matter.

"I'm not saying anything's _wrong_ with you," Ralph tried to assuage, "but the way you keep going about things is...maybe a little intense. Didn't you scare that other kid off?"

_"What? _No...Not _yet, _anyway," V said with an uncertain shrug, her eyes rolling around with self-doubt. "But, I mean, she keeps cancelingon me whenever I try n' make plans, so-...Anyway, yea, thanks for the _confidence, _Unks."

"_Ugh, _again with the 'Unks,' huh? We're back to 'Unks'...?" Ralph was blathering with dissatisfaction under his breath. Bringing his tone back up, he said, "You just need to learn to take a breath, step back, and...ya know, maybe dial down the intensity. Take it from me, kid, I think I might know a thing or two about being too intense."

Ellie nodded, trying to help back her boss up on this while also trying to hold in a laugh.

Ellie pointed out, "Yea, it, uh, takes a...subtle touch to get the ball rolling with people, you can't just dive in face first, you gotta go _through _some shit to-..._stuff-!_" She corrected her language, given that Ralph was present. (yep, he'd shot her a hard look) "You go through stuff together before things really...-"  
**\- ****Chop. Chop. Chop. ****-****  
**The warmth of blood splashing against her cheeks, the sight of steel carving through human flesh.  
"-..._uh, _before they really-..."  
**\- ****Chop. Chop. Chop. ****-**  
_'̞E͈̲̼l͕̠̭͕̥̱l͉͍̲͓i̖e̞̻̖̩̖͔!̠͙̬̠̝̺ ̮̪̙͖͇̥͎S̱̞͍͓͉͚t̗̞̙o͖̘̟̹̠̺p͓̙!̟̤̖͙̝ ͎S͔to̦p̭̼̺̗͔̱!͕͎̹͚̣̫ͅ'̥̪̖͇̼̻͉ _

Ellie's chest tightened up, her hands clenching involuntarily. She cleared her throat and regained her balance, nodding absent-mindedly.  
_'̣͖Do̖n̙'t̻͉̻̩̪̲ ͉f͎̠̬͇̘ͅu̞͍͙͖c͎̦̘̠̪͕͓k̳i̲̟͓̬n̻̦̖̱g ͚̞̭̦t̞̮͈͎̳o͎̗u̜̲̘̩͙c̱͔̝̗̖̱͚h ̲m͈͇e͈̖̗͉̳̞!͙̖͈̮̮̱͔'̳̗̳ _

"Y-You know," she vaguely tried to conclude her point, wading through her traumatic memory like muddy water up to her ankles.

"Uh...Goooo _onnn_?" Vanellope prodded, wriggling a curious hand in a circle with a confused look.

Having found enough clarity to bring herself back to the present, Ellie said with finality, "What I'm saying, um, is that, well, it...takes work. It takes time. To really get along with someone. You can't...force it."

Ellie's hands were trembling a little, so she tucked them inside her elbows as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Vanellope looked less than convinced. She countered, "Look, _uhhh,_ no offense? But I don't see neither of _you _getting all..._buddy buddy _with everyone, either. So." She tilted her head to one side as she began to wander off into the arcade.

Ralph let up an extended palm of concession at Vanellope, shaking his head with some defeat as he looked to Ellie, as if waiting for her to join him in his disappointed frustration.

"Aaand I guess that's...how we're ending conversations now," he grumbled disparagingly.

"Eh, she's a teen," Ellie dismissed his worry. "She's gotta work through things."

"Sure, but nothing I do gets through to her anymore," he lamented. "We used to be two peas in a pod, thick as thieves, and now, she...-" His nose spewed a disgruntled sound. "Anyway. How's the new girl doing?"

"Oh, uh-...Sakura?" Ellie had at least managed to remember the chick's name by now. "Yea, she's, ya know, she's...fine."

"Picking things up quick?" Ralph checked.

Ellie nodded plainly. That college kid Ralph had hired was...fine? Yea. Ellie had nothing much to say about her for the time being. She was too...'peppy' was probably the word for it? Too 'peppy' for Ellie's tastes, but that didn't make her a bad employee. Just discouraged Ellie from getting to know the woman. So, yea, for the time being, she was 'fine.'

"Good. Good." Her Boss nodded just as simply as Ellie had answered. He watched his niece hover around the two other kids in the corner of the arcade. "Well, uh, once she's trained up, that should take some pressure off you, whenever you're ready to...ya know." He gestured his fist vaguely forward, insinuating Ellie's desire to 'move on' to a new job, which she'd casually brought up now and then.

"_Ah, _yea, still...workin' that shit out, no, uh-...No rush on that, Ralph." Ellie creased her sweaty brow nervously before starting up, "Though, actually, so, about that, I might...have a gig I need to take care of soon, and, so, we could use...like...some _muscle, _if you know what I mean..."

Ralph's face withered at Ellie's sheepish, fumbling words as he posed, "A...'side-hustle?'"

Ellie mumbled, "Yea..."

The two of them watched over the arcade for a moment.

"Ell," Ralph said with a slow sigh. "You _know _I'm trying to stay outta that racket, now that...-" He gestured one of his brick-like hands in Vanellope's direction.

"No, no, _yea, _I get it," Ellie spurted, instantly backing off. "I just-...I mean, we do what we gotta _do, _Ralph. This place ain't exactly gonna pay that kid's way, is it? So, like-...We endure and survive."

"Like you're always saying," Ralph sighed, all gloomy about it.

"Well, I mean-...Well, _yea! _What you did-...What _I _did? Doesn't make you a bad _guy. _Doesn't make us bad _people, _it...-"

"Yep, _well_," Ralph grunted dubiously, lifting up the back of his palm to interrupt her train of thought. Leaning back against the counter, his elbows perched up and forced Ellie over a couple steps. "Tell me, Ellie, shoot straight with me: do you think your old man was a 'bad guy?'"

Ellie froze up, keeping her memories at bay. She'd kind of brought this on herself, huh?

"I-...I, uh...-" She scratched at her cheek awkwardly. "That's...sorta complicated, I can't just...-"  
"Because lemme tell ya, sister: the thought of _that _kid, right there-" Ralph pointed at Vanellope in the distance. "-lookin' at me, _thinking _about me, the way _you_ talk about your pops? I don't-..." He shook his head, tight lipped. "Not sure what I'd do with myself. So maybe it _is _complicated for you. Fair enough. I think I'm gonna try to keep it _simple _with Vanellope, if you catch my drift."

Ellie fluttered her lips as she let out air she'd held in.

"Yea, I getcha," she mumbled after a moment. "That's-...No, that's good, Ralph. It is. But, like-...Some day, she's gonna be livin' her _own _life, probably _away _from this town."

"_Agh_...-" Ralph grimaced with unease. "Not so..._sure_ about that, but...-"

"Look," Ellie insisted. "Just don't go...making that _girl _your 'everything,' all right? Whatever, like _'redemption'_ it is...that you're looking for? Don't, like, make that _her _problem. OK? Your happiness? Your...'redemption?' It's not her responsibility, dude."

Ralph twisted his head toward her earnest, wary expression. After reading her glance, his eyes shot to one side briefly before coming back. He nodded sagely, seeming to understand the weight of what Ellie was trying to convey, and the place it was coming from.

Giving the massive man a slap on the back to try and temper the solemnity of their interaction, Ellie assured, "Keep on doin' what you're doin', ya big lug. Keep goin' to your A.M.I. meetings, keep trying to steer that wild child in the right direction. I'll keep my personal sh_hhhstuffff _outta _yours, _n'...we'll be fine. Right?"

Nodding with an amused smirk, Ralph concluded, "Fine enough, sister."

Across the arcade, Vanellope's attempts to spectate some rounds in The Turning (Angel Knives FOR LIFE) were going poorer than she'd hoped. Without so much as speaking a word to her, both kids had kind of given her the stink eye over their shoulders when she'd said she was gonna play winner. She'd went to go put a coin down on the cabinet and they'd bulliedher out of doing so. Er͠h-͠ ̴N-̵N͢-N͏a̷h, no way, not, like, 'bullied,' just...just some banter. Ya know? Playful banter. It was a teenager thing. Banter.

Really annoying, mean, jerky banter.

Well, _screw _them, anyway.

She had plans. So..._yea, _she had bigger stuff to do than some stupid arcade game.

Speaking of...she checked her phone for a reply on that.

( From: Clem )-  
( Sorry, I just can't. AJ's come down with something. )-  
( It's not like I can take him to a doctor so )-  
( I gotta stay with him tonight. )-

Vanellope replied,  
-( want me to babysit his grumpy butt? )  
-( when's the last time you took a break anyway? )  
-( i could get something to help. maybe swing by? )  
-( just shoot me an address and like what kinda soup you want )  
-( soup's always good when your sick )  
-( or i mean whatever you want whatever helps )

The response she received was about what she'd expected, though.

( That's nice of you and all, V )-  
( But you know I can't let you come here. )-  
( Please stop asking. )-  
( We have to figure this shit out ourselves. )-  
( Violet will be back in town soon. )-  
( That'll give me more room to breathe. )-  
( Give me some time. )-  
( Sorry. )-

Her chest aching with rejection, Vanellope decided that her desires to socialize could fuck right off for the night. She didn't really have any friends – none her own _age._ Wasn't like she could just, what, _ask _Ellie to come 'kick it,' right? Pff. Nah. Well, V decided she'd get some work done, then. Money couldn't buy happiness but it _could _buy...stuff. Stuff that, like, warded off sadness a bit. It was the best she had, anyway.

Starting up her Warp Whistle app, she scanned around the GPS map to see if there was anyone in need of a ride across town. Wandering toward the back door with her head buried into her phone, she saw one job that looked like it'd be a cinch.

[[ Crateria Bus Terminal - Valhalla ]]  
[[ Passenger: StrawberryWings (**Madeline)** ]]

The bus terminal was close, at the edge of the city, and this 'Valhalla' place wasn't too far. Rush hour was over, so it'd be a quick and easy job. Vanellope had earned a bit of a high status as a driver with Warp Whistle, given her consistent record of getting customers to their destinations ahead of schedule. Did she _cheat _a little with this? You could _look_ at it that way...But she was just using what she had to work with. The very thing that made social stuff hard made driving easy. Either way, it meant she could charge the higher end prices for the quick-and-speedy service she was capable of delivering.

Meeting new people and doing what Vanellope did best – _drive _– would at least help stop her mood from spiraling again.

"You meeting up with your pal?" Ralph checked with her as she walked by.

"Huh? _Oh, _nah, I _told _you, she keeps _flaking _on me."

Ralph posed the idea, "I keep _tellin' _ya, Kid, you've gotta find yourself a reliable social network."

_oh my nayru RALPH could you shout it any LOUDER how I don't have any friends?  
In front of Ellie and everything?  
WHAT IS __**WRONG**__ WITH YOU?!_

"_Yea-yea-yea_, whatever, can we _not_getinto this right now? In fronta...-?" V flapped a flippant hand out at Ellie. "..._Psh._" She trailed off, shaking her head as she felt her face flush with heat. Last thing she needed was people as cool as that thinking she was just some lame, lonely, pathetic _kid!_

Ralph scratched behind his ear and offered a reluctant nod.

"All right, all right. To be continued," he tabled the discussion. "So, where _are_ you going, then?" her not-actually-uncle Ralph prodded.

"Gonna run some Warps," she called back. "I'll catch ya at home."

"Hey, hey, whoa," Ralph marched up to her, spitting out in a patronizing way, "What're the rules?"

Throwing her head back to emphasize how uncool this was, V recited dully, "Don't leave town, hit speed-dial #3 if there's any danger, be back by midnight."

Ralph flashed her a thumbs-up and gave her head a ruffle as he saw her out the door.

"Go do your thing, Missus President."

"Catch you later, Mister Fart-Feathers." 

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

[[ Singing a song to call you a Warp. . . ]]  
[[ . . .3:24. . .3:23. . .3:22. . . ]]

Agonizing over the wait for a ride into town, Madeline gently whacked her phone against her palm, meandering around the edges of the bus terminal. She'd already taken a Gogoat Bus from home to get to Arcadia. She was _not _in the mood to deal with _more _bus-riding after an eight hour trip, and it'd be worth the extra cash to just get herself right into town and to the bar, which was close to her reserved hotel. She sorely needed a drink, though a bit of guilt drizzled itself down her back as she reflected on this fact.

The night sky was strangely bleached of stars, save for the outer edges of the horizon.

She checked her phone again.

[[ Singing a song to call you a Warp. . . ]]  
[[ . . .2:52. . .2:51. . .2:50. . . ]]

Wrapping her thumb against the side of her phone, she hoped someone would take her request. 

From this distant edge of town, there was breathing room to gaze off across the city at the perfectly triangular outline of the mountain's silhouette towering against Arcadia's back. The mountain nestled the city between its foreboding formation and the ocean beyond.

That..._damned _mountain.

It wasn't going to win again. She _was _going to overcome it this time.

She'd spent all year stressing over this, gradually waning and whittling that stress down into bitterness, then to anger, then to fear, then to determination.

But now?

Now that Celeste Mountain was _there, _looming before her once again...  
Madeline was beginning to feel doubts.  
Fears.

She knew what was waiting for her.  
She knew this wouldn't be easy.

And while she had been _so _sure she was ready, _now _that the day had nearly come, she was swiftly realizing that maybe she was _not _ready. 

_This is it, Madeline._

_Just breathe._

_Why are you so nervous?_

_**You can do this.**_

Her Warp Whistle app notified her that a driver had taken her request. The map zoomed out to show her via GPS a little tornado making its way to her.

[[ We've found you a Warp! ]]  
[[ Connecting you with: ]]  
[[ Prez_von_Schweetz (Vanellope) ]]

Breathing out vapors with some relief into the cold winter night, Madeline headed toward the parking lot of the terminal, its pickup strip dotted with street lamps. Wading through puddles of bright light in the dim bluish black, Madeline untied the bun her massive mess of crimson hair had been done up in, shook it loose, and retied it into a ponytail. Maybe she'd try brushing it on the way to the bar so she looked _somewhat _presentable, but in her puffy blue winter coat, black jeans, and hiking boots, she...probably wasn't going to really win over much attention, regardless. Not that she was looking for any, right? She just would feel _weird _rolling into a bar she liked going to looking like a cold mess, was all.

Unslinging her heavy backpack and leaning it against one of the street lamps, Madeline suddenly realized how _tired _she was. She hadn't even really _done _much of anything all day – just sat on a bus – yet she felt so exhausted already. And the _real _work hadn't even started. She'd lost sleep the night before agonizing over this impending journey.

She pulled her phone out to check on her ride's progress, and...-

Oh, whoa. Her ride was nearly there already.

Maybe the GPS had been lagging or something? That was fast! Not that she was complaining!

Before Madeline knew it, she could hear an engine whirring in the distance, growing closer and closer. A red car was making its way toward her – it matched the model depicted on Warp Whistle, although...-

As the car skidded to a stop before her, Madeline was a bit stricken by...the gaunt green color of this oddly sporty vehicle. And it was a convertible? In _this _weather? And the tacky decal on the side depicting zagging lines and...skulls? And...-? _Blech._

The chick in the driver's seat looked a bit young to be handling such a beastly looking car, and her reckless approach made Madeline worry a bit – still, whoever this 'Vanellope' was, she had a five-star rating on the app, with hundreds of reviews, so...-

"You Madeline?" the driver called out from her car. Madeline could make them out through the passenger-side rear-view mirror from the angle they were at. The driver fidgeted with the sunglasses propped up on her forehead. It was _dark out, _why'd this girl even need sunglasses? "Hello?" the girl called out when Madeline had frozen up.

Madeline, still in shock at the bizarre sight of all this, nodded and awkwardly went about scooping up her backpack, which was almost as big as she was.

"Go ahead and chuck yer junk in the back seat," 'Vanellope' advised, contently drumming her hands against her steering wheel. "Pop a squat, n' we'll be there in two clicks of Sonic's sneakers."

As Madeline carefully opened the nearest back door and set her back down in the cramped seat – flipping it sideways so it would fit – she worried about this whole...no roof thing.

"Uhh...-" she started, gesturing vaguely upward with her finger.

"Gotcha covered, lady," the driver said casually, pressing a button on her dashboard. Her car's trunk _whirred _to life, unfolding itself in an elaborate fashion as the roof of a car emerged and locked itself into place. "Get it?" said the girl with a bright-eyed, buck-toothed grin. "'Covered?'"

"...Aheh. Heh." Madeline smiled as politely as she could muster and nodded, her teeth grimacing forcefully as she made her way around the vehicle. This was going to be a bit weird, wasn't it? But she'd arrive at her location pretty quickly and (hopefully?) painlessly.

"By the way, _is _it 'lady?'" the driver checked as Madeline worked her small stature into the passenger's seat, finagling with the chair to get comfortable.

"Huh?" mumbled Madeline, a bit confused.

"I mean, like...-" The driver shrugged at her, hands still at the ready on the wheel. "Are you a 'Miss?' Or...somethin' _else_...orrr...-?"

"_Oh, _erh, yea, 'Miss' is-...I mean, actually, _no. _Just call me Madeline. But, yea, 'Miss' as in, '_lady_,' as in 'she?' Yea. Yes. That is-...That applies. Yea."

"Cool-cool-cool," the driver said, nodding to herself as she waited for Madeline to buckle up. "Same here, same here...Name's Vanellope, by the way." She stuck out her shrimpy little arm, and Madeline at least felt some slight connection in their mutual...shrimpiness.

Madeline accepted the girl's hand with some hesitation she tried to hide. Vanellope shook fairly aggressively and firmly, but Madeline's grip was rigid and kept up without difficulty.

Rolling up the windows and putting her pedal to the metal, Vanellope checked, "Heading to a bar, right? Valhalla?"

"That's the place," Madeline confirmed.

"Gotta go fast!" cheered Vanellope, switching on her radio and pulling them out of the bus terminal. She dialed up the volume a little and boosted the car's speed as soon as they were on a main road.

As she navigated traffic like it was second nature, Vanellope talked over her music.

"So _Madeline: _what brings ya to Arcadia? Just stoppin' by?"

"Um, I guess?" Madeline disliked that she had to raise her own voice, as well.

"You look alllll geared up for some kinda _camping _trip," observed Vanellope.

"Something like that..."

"What's up with all the gear?"

"I'm, uh...going to Celeste Mountain."

"Ah, yea? I hear the Mountain's real neat this time o' year."

"Y-Yea, it is."

"You been before?"

"Actually, yea."

"Had to come back for more, huh?"

"...Yup."

"Wait, wait, _hold _up." Vanellope tweaked her volume down a bit, allowing them to speak in normal tones. She then asked skeptically, "So, what, are you...like...gonna try to _climb _that thing?"

At this question, Madeline swallowed the lump in her throat. She took a breath.

With resolve, she answered, "I _am _gonna climb that thing."

"No foolin'? Well, _dang, _Miss, I hope yer ready. That mountain's a real bitch – pardon my Inklish."

Madeline laughed a little at this odd girl's demeanor. How old _was _she? She seemed a bit too young for this line of work. Or, well, any line of work, really, on her own.

"Ha, no, I'm-...I am _definitely _ready for it," Madeline insisted.

_You can do this._

"Yea? Nice. _Nice,_" encouraged Vanellope."Better keep yer wits about ya, though – been ages since anybody's topped that thing. I heard the last person who tried to climb that sucker ended up in the hospital."

Madeline's chest froze. She couldn't breathe for a moment.

The thumping synth of the car's music pounded against her ear drums as the painful memories rushed across her like a subzero wind. Each bass bump mirrored a blow against stone, against wood, against dirt, her body tumbling down, down, down...

"I mean," Vanellope said, "I guess they almost _died_, or somethin'?"

"That...-" Madeline cleared her throat. She had to face this. "That was _me_. A-Actually."

Vanellope's mouth hung slightly agape as she glanced at Madeline briefly.

Wait, hadn't there just...been a red light? It was gone. Madeline could've _sworn _there'd been a red light, but even glancing in the rear-view and it was like that street hadn't existed...Sheesh, Madeline _was _tired. She was spacing out now, huh?

"_What'd_ ya say?" Vanellope double checked, lowering her radio's volume to an even a gentler level.

"That person," Madeline explained, her hands shaking against once another. "Who died? A-Almost? Trying to climb the mountain? That was _me._"

The fall had been the single most painful thing Madeline had ever experienced.

What had come after? The most _strange _thing she'd ever experienced.

"_You?_" Vanellope balked. A pause, then her eyes narrowed and she skeptically said, "You screwin' with me?"

Madeline shook her head, her expression having stiffened severely.

"_You_," Vanellope repeated. "Lil' ol' Madeline, here, tiny Miss Mads. _You _fell down that mountain?"

"_Yes_," Madeline growled, quickly uncomfortable with this conversation. "Why, you think I look too '_small_' to-"  
"That's so _bad-ass_, Mads!" Vanellope's voice was quivering with awe. "You're, like...a wounded _warrior, _scars across ya, comin' back for _vengeance. _Redemption! That's _rad, _lady! You are a _rad lady! _The _guts _you gotta have to be doin' this? Holy Triforce_, _Mads, do it _to it!_"

As Mads – er, what? 'Mads?' Huh. She kinda...thought it was OK, but maybe just from this kid. Actually, didn't like it, no. Well, yea, she _was _pretty full of 'mads' these days, but-...She'd sit on such a nickname and decide later if she liked it or not. For now, she was leaning on 'not.'

Anyway, as Madeline felt a rush of warmth sprawl across her cheeks from this girl's reaction, she realized they'd...seemed to have skipped ahead on their route? They hadn't hit a _single _red light this entire time. How? Was Madeline nodding off to sleep, here? Getting too lost in thought?

"_Wow_," Vanellope breathed out, shaking her head a little with respect as she turned them around a corner. "I mean, I didn't know a _kid _was the one climbing that thing. A real inspiration for me, ya know?"

"Oh, I'm..._not _a kid," Madeline grumbled, her expression souring into a pout she tried to contain.

"Enh?"

"I'm twenty-five," Madeline blurted. "I'm not a kid."

"..._Oooohhhh_," Vanellope spouted. "Sorry, I th-...th-..._**thought **_you were, like...maybe _my_ age? Or s-somethin'? I did-...didn't-..."

"No, no, it's fine, it's-...I get that a lot," admitted Madline. "I am...a _small _person."  
_People always underestimate me...It's gotten pretty damn old and I'm not even __**that **__old yet._

"I'm a small person, too, sister."  
_Hm. I get the feeling people underestimate you, too, huh, Vanellope?_

"So you probably can relate," theorized Madeline.

"Sure, sure..." Vanellope shoved stray hair behind one ear with a forlorn nod before readjusting her grip on the steering wheel. "Ahhh, _dangit,_" she sighed out as an impending wall of traffic seemed to suddenly emerge before them. "Oh, _man, _what's goin' on _here_?" She was leaning around to try and scope out what was ahead. Cop cars and sirens could be heard.

"Some kind of accident?" Madeline theorized.

Through the mirror up front, Madeline could see Vanellope's expression stiffen with determination.

"Some kinda _somethin', _all right," Vanellope acknowledged. She jammed her hand around her shift stick and pulled a sharp and sudden right turn. "We're takin' a detour. Hold onto yer butt."

"Sh-Sure," Madeline mumbled, her body flopping to and fro a little from the sudden start-stop nature of Vanellope's driving. A few seconds of near-whiplash later, and Madeline's stomach suddenly felt extra queasy. Coming to, she noticed that they seemed clear from the traffic jam that had blocked up their path ahead.

Madeline suddenly noticed when she tried to survey the right side of the car that a rear-view mirror was missing. Had that been missing before...? Why did that seem odd? Of course it had been missing before, why was this even a question in Madeline's head? Was obviously a safety hazard, though...

"Oh, um, y-your...-" Madeline went to gesture toward the missing mirror but...the driver was _driving, _so...-

"My...-?" Vanellope came back, focused on the road.

"Your right-side mirror, it's, um-..."

"_Huh? _My r-..._Ahh, _what?! Flippin'...-!" She seemed annoyed. How had she not noticed something like that? Madeline was getting very mixed signals, here. A super talented driver who didn't _notice _when pivotal pieces of her vehicle were broken off? "That-...Y-Yea, I'll...have to see my mechanic, n'...get that-...Don't worry about that, we're almost there, anyway, so...-"

Madeline was eager to calm the girl's stress back down, so she tentatively asked, "Um. So, anyway, you seem like you've been doing this a while. How...old are _you, _then?"

"Seventeen..."

"Oh..."  
_So young! Her profile said she's done thousands of rides for people!_

"_Yeeee-_epp..." Awkward finger-drumming on her steering wheel as Vanellope nodded self-consciously. "Wanna guess how many conversations I've ended in this very car by telling someone my age?"

"Well, um...-" Madeline cleared her throat. She in fact did _not _want to guess. "W-Wow, seventeen, though, and...some big-shot Warp Whistle driver, huh? That's...pretty impressive."

"Heh. Thanks. I already ran my first car into the _ground, _though. Hence the..._fancy-pantsy _new ride, here, courtesy my Uncle. And a year's worth of savings. And some favors for my mechanic. But, eh, it's nothin' compared to the crazy stuff _you're _getting into. I mean, I can't even leave town, let alone go on some, like, soul-defining, introspective adventure where I face my own demons, climb literal mountains, head-on, and all that."

"Ah, but-..." Madeline squeamishly shrugged. "I mean, I _failed. _Utterly. At least you have a new car to show for it. I've just-...Well, I've got _problems. _So...is it _really _all that impressive? What I've done?"

"Uh, _yea? _Seriously, that was _some _accident you musta had last time, but here you are, huh? Every reason to stay away but _here. you. are._ Back for round two? That's some hardcore _determination, _Mads! I hope you climb the _heck _outta that Mountain this time."

"Oh, I'm _going_ to," Madeline said firmly, nodding with her arms crossed stoutly. "I can do this..."

"_Yea, _you can! All the goddesses gonna be backin' you up with _that _attitude," Vanellope cheered on enthusiastically, wheeling them down into a cramped parking lot. Wow, fast service, indeed... Glancing at the bar's back door, Vanellope cited, "Looks like you gotta get yer drink on first, though, huh?"

"O-Oh, uh...Yea, I guess. _I'm _just...trying to take the edge off first, get a good night's sleep, then maybe take-...take a day to prepare, before I...-"

"Well good _luck, _Miss! Not that you _need _it – sounds like yer all rarin' to go."

"...Right."

"Soooo, uh...-" Vanellope switched her ignition off. "I've heard about this place from people – had to pick more n' a few up from here, actually. Never _been, _though. Mind if I, like...join you?"

"...What?" Madeline was alarmed. And suspicious.

"Ya know." Vanellope sniffed, brushing her thumb against the edge of her nose. With a shrug, she clarified, "Hang out with you a bit. Looks like you could use more pep-talkin', to be honest."

"But, I-...Aren't you too young?"

Vanellope defensively cited, "Nothin' illegal about _being _there."

"I _guess_, but...-" Madeline wasn't actually sure. Something was tugging at her gut to say _**'sure!'**_

"I'll get a Chuckola Cola, or somethin'. Don't worry about it! Not tryin' to get hammered, no way, just..._ya _know...tryin' to spend a bit more time with my new buddy Mads, here."

Madeline was..._not _sure how she felt about this. Ugh, but she...just wanted to say _**'yes!'**_ somehow?

Vanellope went on, "I mean, you don't look like you're goin' in there to meet up with somebody, and, like...I dunno if drinking by yourself sounds like such a good time. Trust me, drinks are _always _better with a buddy."

But something about this kid was sort of reminding her of her past self?  
If her friend Theo had helped her survive her last trip to Celeste Mountain, surely Madeline could help some wayward teen survive an evening of loneliness, right?

"So, whaddya say?" Vanellope asked, sticking her hand out.

"Um...-" Madeline pushed hair strands behind her ears and nodded simply. "Sure, that sounds OK, I guess. Just...No alcohol for you, and no more 'Mads.' Please. Miss is...all right, I guess, but really, just 'Madeline' is best."

"...Oh. Yea, _yea, _n-n-..._**no**_ problem." The kid looked a bit dejected at this, and at Madeline's declination to shake hands again, but...Madeline needed to make sure certain boundaries remained in tact. This kid was a stranger. And a _kid. _After all. "So, erhh...-" Vanellope unlocked the doors of her car. "Let's head on in, then?"

"Mm."

The bar was just as ambient as Madeline remembered, with dark walls accented by brightly colored lights and posters. The counter was adorned with neon bottles of vibrant liquids, and the bartenders were spic and span. The place was pretty busy, though. There was a bit of a crowd gathered around a flatscreen hanging up on the wall.

"Goddess_damnit, _another _kid?!_" One of the bartenders was stomping over to them. She had short white hair, was dressed very sharply, but looked...even rougher than Madeline felt. She gripped a coffee cup in her hand like it was a lifeline, and Madeline could _relate, _just...sort of on the opposite side of beverages. She was glaring at them with wild eyes and flared nostrils. "These two runts belong to anybody?!" the lady cried out, cutting through the bar.

No one claimed ownership, and Madeline felt her face bubble up with irritated embarrassment.  
The white-haired lady in the vest and slacks straightened her tie, which all loose, and glowered down at them. _Yeep, _she looked mean, her eyes were all bloodshot, and just-...Yea, she did not look so well.

"Look, you little punks," growled the woman, waving her coffee cup around. She coughed – it sounded bad. "I dunno what woodwork you kids're all...crawling through, but...-" Her voice got weak and she trailed off into a whole round of raspy wheezing.

"What's she talkin' about?" Vanellope murmured, glancing at Madeline.

"I don't...-" Madeline shook her head and shrugged back.

"Wh-_Whoaaaa _there, Boss," eased the purple twin-tailed bar tender in the tights and miniskirt. Man, she must've been a little cold, wearing stuff like that in this weather. She placed delicate hands on 'the Boss'' shoulders, wheeling her around. "You need to take it easy," she was advising. "Go sit down."

"_You _siddown!" squealed the white-haired lady, sucking on some coffee with one hand and stabbing out her finger with the other. "Tell'n me to sit down, I _own _this-..._hugh-!_" More coughing.  
"R-Right, I know, Boss, I just-..."  
"Fuckin' _kids, _this ain't an orphanage, this look like an orphanage? 'Cause we don't-..._bluh-__**CHOO!**_"

_Ough. _Their 'Boss' seemed pretty sick. She'd sneezed into her hand and was warily wiping it against her pant leg, to the dismay of her purple-haired companion.

"Dang, you don't look so good, lady," Vanellope blurted.

The 'Boss' just _glared _at Vanellope.

"Hey," Madeline pleaded with her driver-turned-trouble-maker.

"_What? _She _doesn't,_" Vanellope insisted.

"You're not wrong," mumbled the purple-themed woman irritably. "Dana," she whimpered, rubbing her Boss' back with a worried tenderness. "Did you take that medicine I got you?"

'Dana' held up three fingers with one hand, rubbing her snotty nose with the other wrist – which was still holding a coffee cup.

"Three?" the twin-tailed woman was baffled.

"Is she OK, Jill?" came the other bartender – he had shaggy hair and deliberate stubble on his face.

"She's not," groaned 'Jill.'

"'_M good. _Toog three uhvem," Dana said proudly, her nose clogged up.

"Three _pills_?" Jill scoffed.

"Yuh-huhhh-...huhhh-..._bluh__**-CHOO!**_" Dana sneezed again, into her sleeve this time.

"_Three?! _The dosage is _one! _Dana, you...-!"

"Thuhree times-uh dose, three timez-uh gedd bedder." Dana nodded to herself, coughing into her sleeve.

"That's not-..." Jill was smiling with her mouth, but her eyebrows were angry. Looked like her forehead would burst a blood vessel... "You idiot..."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised," muttered the stubble-faced bartender with a flat tone, his eyes half-closed.

"Fuhrorr damm RITE 'mna idiot..." Dana went to drink more of her coffee, but it seemed empty. She chucked the empty cup on the ground. "Cleannit up, Jill." She thrust her finger down at it, giggling like a drunken school child.

Er. Speaking of which...-

"We should...go," Madeline said to Vanellope, trying to make her way for the door.

"Nahhhh, nah-nah, we're stayin'," Vanellope insisted, yanking at Madeline by her hoodie's hood. "C'mon, we just _got _here!"

"Hey!" Madeline shooed her hand off. "Watch it..."

"S-S-..._**Sorry, **_I just...-"

Madeline avoided the kid's face, her voice already shaky enough to waver Madeline's resolve.

Part of her was almost, like, _twisting _at her from the inside, daring her to stay in this place and see what happened. It was a familiar sensation, and one she didn't like – and yet all the same, she couldn't ignore it.

"Sed _cleennit up. _Yeaaaa, huhuhuh...!" Dana was nodding, clapping her hands together when her worker bent down with both knees to scoop the trash up. "Ahmm the _BOSS._"

"Yes, you _are,_" Jill said with a polite tone, but her face looked quite annoyed.

"Not acting like one tonight," said the masculine bartender.

"'M **SICK, **Gil!"

"That's our _point,_" Jill asserted.

What was their Boss doing at work like this? Shouldn't she be home, or...-?

"So can we sit _down _or what?" Vanellope pestered.

"Wh...-?" Jill stared at them like they were crazy.

"I got this," groaned the more masculine of the bartenders, nudging Jill to look after Dana.

Jill took the angry sick lady off toward the back. "Chief, why don't you go take another nap? Huh?"

"_I don' needa NAP, Jill, need-uh...fuggin' more coffee._"

"Yea. Yea, I, uh-...Mm...That's maybe not...-"

The purple-haired woman was being called from the counter, and she flagged out a finger, requesting a moment as they disappeared out back. Turning back to Madeline and Vanellope, the masculine bartender hesitantly smiled and nodded.

"W-Welcome to Valhalla, I-..." He scratched at his neck, glumly staring at the two of them. "Look, this isn't a place for kids, all right?"

"I'm not a _kid,_" Madeline grumbled, fumbling her little fingers through her coat and presented her ID card.

"_I'm_ just here for a soda," Vanellope pre-emptively threw out there, offering her own card.

The bartender seemed surprised when Madeline's age checked out. He did a double-take on the ID, probably trying to make sure it wasn't fake. And then he noticed that Vanellope was of course not old enough...

"Wait, _Vanellope? _Von Scweetz? Aren't you...-" He snapped his fingers, handing their IDs back. "You're _Ralph's _kid."

Madeline shrugged, but Vanellope nodded.

"Yea. You know my _Uncle_...?" Vanellope sounded suspicious.

"Yea, we, erh, we used to be work buddies a while back." The guys shrugged.

"And _who _are you?" Vanellope asked, before he could say anything else.

The man's finger scratched at the edge of his nose as he shrugged, replying, "Just a bartender. Like I said, you can't-"  
"No, I mean, what's your _name_?" Why was Vanellope giving the poor guy such a hard time?

"John. It's John. But hey, I, uh-...You can't _be_ here, kid, especially with what's going on right now."

"See?" Madeline sighed to her Warp driver turned sudden acquaintance.

"_Whaaat?!_" Vanellope balked. "Come on, I swear to hylia I won't touch a _drop _o' booze, just-...just hook a gal up with some Chuckola Cola, n' shove us in a corner, we won't cause ya any trouble!"

This girl had 'trouble' written all over her, though, as far as Madeline was concerned. Why was she even here, doing this?

She was kind of..._liking _this, in a way? Deep down. It was unnerving. It was...weird, it that odd 'something' that was _nudging _her toward making decisions like this – decisions she normally wouldn't second guess at all.

"I can't decide which is worse," bemoaned the bartender with the shaggy hair. "Another kid trying to come in here, or the _adult _bringing her."

Madeline felt her stomach lurch. But part of her felt angry about being accused like that.  
So what? The kid wasn't asking for alcohol! She was trying to do someone a good turn!  
Why was this such a-?!

"She's _really _not looking good." The purple-haired bartender had returned, and looked pretty worried.

"Huh?" 'John' turned to face her.

"The Boss?" said Jill, nodding her head back. "We need to get her to a hospital."

"Was like she was gonna puke," said Vanellope bluntly.

"She didn't look well," Madeline backed up the notion.

'John' tossed a hand, citing, "_Ahhhh, _no, I don't...really think she's _that _bad."

"What?" Jill said sharply.

"Trust me, Jill, she doesn't want to wake up in a place like that. Hates hospitals. She...just needs bed rest."

"...OK, _sure, _fine." Jill looked displeased. She flung out a hand, pondering, "And _where _is she going to get bed rest around _here?_"

There weren't really any places for a person to sleep. Not comfortably, anyway.

"Let's call her a cab, then," John sighed.

"What's her address?" Jill panted.  
"_I _don't know."  
"Neither do I!"  
"So just _ask _her."  
"She's barely _conscious._"  
"What do you _mean, _barely-"

As the pair of bartenders bickered, Madeline noticed the bar-goers seemed to be getting a little annoyed. Out of the corner of her eye, Madeline caught the television, which was playing some kind of breaking news story with a fancy, old building that had its roof collapsed in. Yikes.

Broken glass everywhere.

_Broken.  
Pieces._

Madeline could feel her breathing get shorter, tighter, the arguing bartenders and the crowd and the girl whose feelings she was hurting, it was piling up and it was just too much aND SHE COULDN'T

"I-I-...I can _go, _it's-..." Vanellope was mumbling into Madeline's ear, but Madeline was...feeling quite suddenly intent on staying. "It's fine, f-forget I-I-...bothered ya, n' I'll...-"

Madeline held up her hand, prying her attention from the screen.

She imagined a feather, just like Theo had taught her: floating in the air, rising and falling with her breath.  
In.  
Out.

In.

Out.

"Uh...Mads?"

"No," Madeline said firmly. "You don't have to leave. We'll stay."

"You-...You sure?" Vanellope's eyes looked a little damp, her tiny hands shaking and fidgeting with each other at her waist. "I-I just...got-...got a bad...-"

Madeline's held up palm whipped itself into a held up index finger, and she refocused on the two bartenders.

"She nearly _fell down _trying to get to her desk!"  
"OK, OK, so she's...really tired. All the more reason to-"  
"Someone needs to look after her."  
"Jill, she's-...She's just got a fever, or the flu, or something, it's not-"  
"I need to get her home."  
"And how are you going to do that?"  
"I-I don't-...!"  
"You gonna _carry _her on the subway?"  
"I'll get a ride-share, or something."  
"Can you even _afford _that right now?"  
"Wh-...-! _No, _but...-!"  
"You can't just _leave _on a night like this."  
"I _know, _I'm not trying to ditch work, I'm-"  
"Dana can call her _own _ride."  
"She's too stubborn for that, and you _know _it."

"Just so _happens_," Vanellope interjected, lifting up a finger at the two of them, "I could give yer girl a free lift, and you can still hold the fort down."

Jill and John stared down at her like she was crazy.

"She's...actually a really good Warp driver," Madeline backed her up.

Jill and John...gave each other suspicious looks.

"And why would you do that?" John wondered aloud.

"Why are you even still _here?_" Jill groaned.

"'Cuz ya'll are gonna give-" Vanellope smacked Madeline on the back, flattening her bushy ponytail and giving her quite a startle. "-my buddy _Mads _here a free drink for the trouble!"

Madeline was confused. So were the bartenders.

"We got a deal, or not?" Vanellope demanded, thumping her boot down on the concrete floor.

John tossed up a hand, shaking his head.

"Fine, if it'll get Jill to shut up, Dana to go to _bed, _and _you_ to get your underage ass out of this _bar, _then fine!"

"It's a deal!" Vanellope thrust up her little hand to John, who shook his head and starting walking away, hurrying to help out angry customers. "A _deal!_" said Vanellope again, shifting to Jill.

Jill, who looked kind of embarrassed rather than relieved, knelt down – bending both knees, on account of her uniform – and warily took Vanellope's hand, nearly being tilted over from how harshly the kid shook it.

With some pride, Vanellope declared. "Bring me this sick lady and I'll get her where she needs to get got."

"Please don't say it like that," Jill sighed through her palm, standing back upright. Jill started walking back to wherever that white-haired sick woman had been brought to, grasping at her forehead as she disappeared down the hall.

"Um...-" Madeline was twiddling her thumbs together. "I thought we were going to hang out?"

"_Ahhh, _don't be sappy about it, Mads." Vanellope was digging around in her hoodie. She pulled out a tattered wallet with a cookie-wafer theme and slid out a pair of business cards. "You'll just owe me one."

"Oh-...Owe you?" Madeline was off put.

"Yea," Vanellope said, like it was obvious. "You owe me a drink?"

"You're not _old enough._"

Vanellope's mouth went agape, puffed out some air, and she rolled her eyes, saying, "A Chuckola _Cola, _lady."

"...Oh." Madeline stared at the card with hesitation.

"Just take the _card_. Jeez, Loo-eez, hell-da, _zelda, _you really need to_ unwind, _or yer gonna end up all sick and grumpy like this _lady _I'm drivin'."

Madeline accepted her own copy of the business card and tucked it away without even looking at it.

"Can't go climbin' a mountain if you're _sick, _right?"

Vanellope's eyes flickered with an intriguing mixture of hope and encouragement and desperation, all rolled into one.

Madeline remembered awkward combinations like that.

"No, I-...Thanks." Madeline's chest was feeling tight again, but not the same as before. It was sort of a good kind. Like putting on armor. "Sorry things didn't go like you wanted..."

"No _problem. _So plans didn't work out," Vanellope conceded, shrugging both shoulders with her hands in her hoodie. "I'm used to it, ya know? It's about how ya get back up, and stuff."

Madeline nodded, and reciprocated the kid's uncertain but hopeful smile.

"Yea, I guess it is," she agreed.

They watched as Jill brought 'the Boss' to her co-worker, the trio argued for a minute, and then Jill started walking the sick woman over. The bartender gestured Madeline to come up, likely to order her free drink.

"There ya go, Mads. Enjoy." Vanellope gave Madeline a light fist bump on her arm. She didn't like it, but endured the gesture for the sake of pleasantries. "You gimme a call when you're ready to pay me back, huh? Maybe I can be your ride back outta town after you climb that big rock?"

Madeline nodded, trying to keep up her smile, though the reminder of why she was even here in this crazy city was...scary.

"Welp," said Vanellope when the two bartender women reached them. "To be continued!" she said simply, trying to look all cool as she did a two-finger salute to Madeline. Madeline chuckled softly and wriggled her fingers inward and outward in reply.

"I'm _ffffine,_" growled Dana. "You're treating me like I'm some lost babe in the _wood_."

"You're _acting _like a baby, all right," Jill grunted, pulling her Boss along with an arm slung across her shoulder.

"Let us _away_, ladies," said Vanellope theatrically, twirling her hands and directing them toward the door as she pranced into it, nudging it open for them.

Madeline and Vanellope swapped one last farewell glance, and Madeline somehow knew they'd cross paths again.

She approached the counter, overhearing some of the news coverage as she did so.

[ "-itor in Chief of the popular news site 'The Augmented Eye,' has come under fire due to allegations made by Marine Ida during a live stream from the gala tonight. Ida, also known as 'Marina,' one half of popular music duo 'Off the Hook,' has accused Mr. Dawson of-" ]

"So how do _you _know that kid?"

"...What?" Madeline had heard the bartender's question. But she hadn't processed it.

John was pouring a beer for someone. He tilted his head toward the door.

"The kid – Vanellope. What's the big idea, trying to bring a kid like her to a place like this?"

"O-Oh, I didn't-...It was _her _idea, actually..." Madeline's cheeks lit up with some shame. She should've known better, how'd she let a kid convince her to do something so stupid?

"_Fff, _yea, I bet it was," John said, handing the beer off to a customer.

"I actually don't really _know _her," Madeline confessed, watching the tender prep another beverage for the person sitting next to her. "She was my Warp driver into town."

"Wow," said John, tossing liquids around in his tumbler. "Taking a minor you _just met _into a bar. Sounds..._real _sensible."

It wasn't sensible. It hadn't been sensible _at all.  
_Madeline wasn't that kind of person!  
Swear to goddesses, she wasn't!  
It was like something had...-!

_Oh, no._

Was it...even possible?  
Madeline wasn't even at the Mountain yet...

"Nothing to say for yourself, huh?" sighed John, pouring a cocktail.

_**\- Stop being such a fucking wimp. -**_

"I, um-..." Madeline hung her blushing head, avoiding the man's gaze. Her breathing was starting to feel off again.

_**\- Woman up. -**_

She didn't like this. She recognized this. She did NOT like this.

John shook his head at her, pouring another beer, saying, "Just don't do something stupid like that again, all right? Here ya go." He handed the beer off to someone else, and accepted the cash they'd given him.

"Of course." Madeline nodded solemnly, watching his take out change. "Sorry, I, um-...I'm from out of town, and...-"

John asserted his advice on her. "Arcadia's full of people who're gonna look at someone 'from out of town' like a resource to suck dry."

"...Wow." Madeline was struck with unease by his cynical words. "Sounds like a nice place..."

John propped up one shoulder, grabbing a rag and wiping down a damp part of the counter top beside Madeline. Hm. Come to think of it, where had his help gone off to? Had she left with Vanellope, too?

Turning up one wrist, John pointed out, "At least you lucked out – you had someone show you kindness when they could've just taken advantage of you, right? Vanellope, I hear she's a good kid. But you got lucky. Not everybody from around here is gonna treat you so well if you just let them walk all over you."

_**\- He knows what he's talking about. -**_

"Right," Madeline breathed out tiredly.

"Just something to consider," said the bartender, backing off of his soap box. He left Madeline another moment to contemplate over the menu, helping out a couple more customers, until he returned, asking her, "So, a deal's a deal: what can I get you? On the house."

_Hm. A Blooming Light sounds like it would really hit the spot._

_**\- Need a Bleeding Jane. Triple-shot. -**_

"Bleeding Jane, huh? Comin' right up..."

"...Wh...-?"

_Damnit.  
No, no, no, it's already..._

Madeline felt her intestines crawling.__**Writhing. **Like something was _alive _inside her.  
Something 'other.'

She felt like she might throw up.

Madeline waved a wobbling arm out at the bartender, attempting to cite that she'd be back in a bit, and fumbled off down the cramped hallway to her right, past the bar counter. She could see the bathroom labeled plainly with a neon light, and she tried to enter – _locked._

_**\- hurRY YOUR ASS UP I GOTTA GO! -  
**__  
__-BAM BAM BAM!-_

"Gimme a fuckin' _minute!_" growled a voice from the other side of the door. Madeline felt faint.

The side of her fist was still on the door.  
She'd slammed it against said door just a moment ago.  
Only she hadn't intended to.

_Oh no! Oh no!  
That wasn't me I DIDN'T MEAN TO sorry I'm SORRY I_

\- FWOOOOOooossshhh s. . .- A Toilet flushing.  
_-SSSSSSSSSSSS- __A sink running._

_**\- Can you go ANY SLOWER?! -**_

"N-No, I, um...-!"

The door swung upon, but Madeline was too terrified to look the stranger in the eyes.  
"_There _ya go, impatient prick! Link's sake! Where's your daddy at, huh? Fucking children..."

Madeline, gasping for breath, shoved past the figure who'd emerged and locked herself into the bathroom. She caught just a _milisecond's _glance at the mirror and was instantly horrified at the state of herself. She turned away from it, her head suddenly throbbing with a pulsating _ache_.

Feather, fuh-_**feather **_PICTURE THE FEATHER MADELINE  
in and out  
in and out  
picture it, BREATHE, just

.

.

.

.

_-RRRRNNNN!-_

Phone. Her phone was going off.  
She couldn't  
had to breathe  
_CALM DOWN IT'S_

_-RRRRNNNN!-___

_ahh hhahahaha...-?  
just  
th th th  
THEO it's just Theo right it's just Theo_

_-RRRRNNNN!-_

yes ok right yes fine i'm fine breathing just breathing

I CAN DO THIS it's going to be OK, I'm-!

Madeline's hand was trembling, but she answered the phone, leveling it in front of her.

_-beep!-_

_[ "__**\- Look at me. -" ]**_

It was _her._  
OF COURSE it was **her!**

_[ "__**\- Oh, come **_**on, **_**don't act all surprised. -" ]**_

Oh, no  
No, no, no, not yet, she wasn't ready for this yet, not ready no  
_oh no oh no noooooo nononono  
not ready  
not ready_

_[ "__**\- Look. At. **__ME.__** -" ]**___

_can't  
breathe  
. . . -!_

_**[ "- I SAID, 'LOOK AT ME!' -" ]**___

Madeline spun around and _pounded _her fist forward!

She'd shattered a chunk of the bathroom mirror. It had cracks all over it now.  
Her fist was on fire. Shaking, her hand was suddenly shaking _so much.  
_Bleeding, she was bleeding. Not as-...! Not as bad as it could've been!

_[ "__**\- **__Ha. Now, _that's_ more __**like it! -" ]**_

Had she meant to do that? Had it been accidental?  
She honestly wasn't sure. She just wanted the voice to stop.

_[ "__**\- Oh goddesses that feels SO GOOD! Now LOOK AT ME, already. -" ]**_

Madeline did what she had been told to do. She looked into the mirror.

Staring back at her from the other side, peeking through multitude of fresh cracks in the mirror's surface...was Madeline's reflection. Only she was _off. _Her coat was purple instead of blue. Her hair magenta instead of red. Gaunt-faced, eyes blood-shot. Where Madeline was sure she was frowning with fear, her reflection looked _excited _and calm.

It was like Madeline was looking at her own ghost.

The assessment probably wasn't too far off, given the circumstances...

"No," Madeline panted, taking a step back. Her reflection remained where it was. Clutching at her chest, which was stinging with pain with every shallow breath, Madeline wheezed out, "No, no-no, I'm not...ready for this, not yet, I haven't...gone back to the Mountain, you can't...-"  
_[ "__**\- YOU'RE not ready?! -" ]**_  
_[ "__**\- OH GOOD. -" ]  
**__[ "__**\- I'm glad that my suffering here ALL BY MYSELF -" ]  
**__[ "__**\- for the past YEAR -" ]  
**__[ "__**\- is all because YOU haven't been ready! -" ]**_

_"It's not like that!" _Madeline tried to defend. _"I didn't mean to leave you behind!"_

_[ "__**\- Like HELL you didn't! -" ]**___

Madeline's eyes were already filled up, dripping tears down her cheeks.  
The guilt was overwhelming her._  
__**  
**__[ "__**\- It was ALL too convenient for you to abandon me! -" ]  
**__[ "__**\- Leave your worst side behind... -" ]  
**__[ "__**\- Turn a blind eye to me... -" ]  
**__[ "__**\- And how'd THAT work out for you, huh?! -" ]**___

_". . ."_

_[ "__**\- Are you your 'best self' yet? -" ]  
**__[ "__**\- Was abandoning me WORTH IT? -" ]  
**__[ "__**\- Has life been going so much better for you? -" ]**___

_"No." _Madeline sniffled and coughed, spitting out phlegm into the sink. Wiping her jacket's sleeve over her face, she confessed, _"No, it's been worse..."_

_[ "__**\- That's because YOU NEED ME. -" ]**___

_"No!" _Madeline whimpered, shoving her weight against the tiled wall beside the door. _"I don't NEED you!"_

_**[ "- YES YOU DO -" ]  
[ "- GODDESSES you won't even admit it! -" ]  
[ "- DinDAMNIT you **__**won't admit it!**__**" ]  
[ "- Here you are -" ]  
[ "- in some dark, dingy bar -" ]  
[ "- getting manipulated by some creepy mall rat -" ]  
[ "- all because you just can't say 'no' -" ]  
[ "- You've been in this city for no more than an hour -" ]  
[ "- and ALREADY I would've steered us out of this. -" ]**_

_"WHAT?! That girl did something NICE for us! F-For me!"_

_**[ "- Like that barboy said – which, by the way, you KNOW 'John' is NOT his name, right? It's all over his face. But like he SAID: you got lucky. -" ]**___

_"I tried to...show kindness to someone! And they returned the gesture!"_

_**[ "- Just as naive as ever...Kindness to a stranger but not ME?!-" ]**___

_"You think you can do better, huh? You think it's so EASY being me?"_

_**[ "- It's easier than being HERE, where you left me! -" ]**_

_"I'm-...Look, I'm SORRY! I didn't mean to leave you. I was scared! I was...lost, and confused, and...-"_

_**[ "- You KNEW I was missing! You could FEEL it.-" ]**___

Madeline had indeed felt it.

She nodded, sobbing through her shame.__

_"B-But I came BACK!" __she pointed out, wavering. __"I came back, when I could've just...-"_

_**[ "- So I'm supposed to believe you came back for MY sake? -" ]**__  
"I-I don't know, but here I am, OK? What do you WANT from me?"  
__**[ "- I WANT YOU to make this right! You owe me! -" ]**__  
"How? How do I make this right?"  
__**[ "- You could set me FREE, for a start. -" ]**__  
"Wh-...?! Set you 'free?' How am I supposed to...-?"  
__**[ "- You know EXACTLY how...-" ]**___

Madeline's heart skipped a beat. She could feel those cold, clammy fingers clawing at her insides. Scratching at the edges of what made her who she was – who she _wanted _to be, anyway.  
Who she _thought _she was.__

_"I can't do that," _Madeline stated, her voice cracking and dry, like a piece of wood splintering in half from the heat of a campfire.__

_**[ "- I can't **_**believe**_** this. You're just as selfish as you always were... -" ]**___

_"I need to climb Mount Celeste. That'll fix this."_

_**[ "- Oh. Right. SURE. Yeaaaa, right-right oooookkkkkaaaayyyy~! -" ]  
[ "- Just. Gonna CLIMB Mount Celeste. -" ]  
**__**[ "- Because that went SO WELL last time! -" ]**___

Madeline's face was starting to feel sore from wiping tears off of her skin.__

_"It'll be different this time! I promise..."_

_**[ "- HA. Yea, IT WILL, because this time, Theo's not here to SAVE YOU. -"]**___

_"I-...I can do it on my own..." _A tingling, uncomfortable stinging ate at Madeline's neck.__

_**[ "- NO, Madeline. No, you can't. YOU NEED ME. -" ]  
[ "- And I'm coming with you. Whether you like it or not. -" ]**___

Madeline's head was on fire. She felt dazed. Nauseous. For just a moment – like a sharp bite of a slice of frozen pie – could feel herself. . . g. . .And a strange voice bounced through her head. It was...probably just this other part of herself messing with her...Making her feel little again.

_**I am thou.  
Thou art I.**__**  
**_

_**Thou hast acquired a new vow.  
It shall become thy beacon in the dark storm,  
lighting thy path toward freedom.**_

__**-I am you.-**  
_You...-  
Um...-  
__**-I AM YOU.-**__  
You are me..._

She awoke, unsure of how much time had passed. Crumpled in a heap on the bathroom floor of a bar in a town she didn't know, Madeline was shivering, shuddering, heaving dry sobs into her hands – the knuckles on her left fist were caked in a thin layer of dried blood from punching the mirror.

The part of her that she had lost when she'd fallen from Mount Celeste had -_** reconnected - .**_

And Madeline was terrified.

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\  
**

****"It's fine, guys. I got this." Undyne was shooing her gloved hand at the brothers. They were just LOOMING there behind her! She was TRYING to dig, here! Why couldn't they just leave family business up to family? It wasn't like _she _went all snoopin' in when _they _had to deal with each other's bullcrap...

"Ah, yes, but...-" Sweet, darling Papyrus, always wanting to be helpful. "-...shouldn't you have some kind of...reinforcements? In case something dire occurs?"

"Something 'dire?'" Undyne scoffed, bursting out a laugh as she re-gripped her shovel. Stabbing it back at the ground and continuing to dig, she posed, "You mean, like, if she tries to pick a fight?"

"Yes, precisely. She was rather _cross, _wasn't she? Sans? When you last spoke?"

"she ain't gonna pick a fight," said Sans, with that always-creepy way he seemed to know stuff. "she lost. knows it."

"You would _think,_" Undyne grunted, lifting her eye-patch to scratch an itch. "But trust me, you don't know my sister like _I _do. She's stubborn as hell."

"welp. got a point there. little determination can go a long way huh?"

"Sure does," Undyne huffed, shoving her eye-patch back down and shoveling out more dirt from the ground. "Anyway, shouldn't _you _two doofs be out there tryin' to find the kid?"

"ain't gonna find 'em."

"Tch-!" clicked Undyne. "Not with _that _attitude..."

"I searched high and low for them," Paps pointed out, pressing a dramatic palm against his broad chest. "I consoled poor Miss Toriel as best I could."

"she's a tough lady. she'll be fine."

At this, Undyne and Paps gave each other looks. Undyne lifted her brows and rolled her eye. She was _not _getting into this. She just kepppppt digggggin' her hole in the ground. Any moment now...-

"Now, _Brother, _given the, erhm, ah, _delicate _and rather intimate _nature _of your relations with Miss Toriel, don't you think it might be, urh, _prudent, _dare I say, appreciated, were you to, ah...comfort her? During such a tumultuous time as this?"

Sans shrugged.

"eh. too much work. ain't gonna change that her kid's missing."

This made Undyne stop for a moment. Wiping sweat from her forehead, she leaned on her shovel as she contemplated.

"Wait-wait. You think, uh-..." She stared Papyrus squarely with her one eye. "You think Alphys maybe needs...like...-" Undyne swapped glances with Sans, the two of them both grimacing slightly. "-..._comfort?_"

"Having not been _married," _said Paps,_ "_I cannot say! Why, I've never even been snared by the wild vines of rrrrrROMANCE_._" He'd rolled his 'r' and everything. Heh. What a cool dude.

"You went on a date with _Frisk _that one time, didn't ya?" Undyne taunted between shovelings.

"Ah-, bbb-! _SO DID YOU!_" Papyrus flailed a pointer finger at her.

Undyne nodded and smirked, shrugging up one shoulder as she re-gripped her shovel.

"Yea," she conceded, striking the earth. "Haven't we all?"

There'd, uh, been a time when Frisk had started living with Toriel when they'd, like...been trying to 'understand' how to, like...'date?' Or something? They'd asked everybody on dates. People had played along, 'cuz that seemed better and more, like, 'educational?' Than just saying 'no?' Although, like, Undyne's attempt at showing the kid what a 'date' was like _had _ended with a call to the fire department...But yea. Frisk had learned the ins and outs of dating because the folks in their life had tried to show 'em. End of the day, Frisk seemed to kinda lose interest and move on to the next thing, like always. What HAD been the next thing...? Cooking, maybe? Or was it karate...?

"i never took 'em on a date," Sans said. In a weird, kinda creepy way.

Why was it creepy that Sans had _not _like, had a pretend-date with the kid? Wasn't it supposed to be creepy the other way around?

"CLEARLY," said Papyrus, "the child was so thoroughly impressed by my and Undyne's cooking skills that they deemed any and all future dates utterly unwarranted. They had learned all they needed to from our prowess." He'd said it like...'prow-ESS.'

"Yea. That." Undyne snapped her fingers at Paps inbetween shovels of dirt.

"sure," said Sans. In that annoying way where like, he _totally _knew somethin' he wasn't saying.

"And anyway," said Undyne, continuing to dig. "If we can just get a hold of my sister, she can tell what the _hell _happened tonight, and maybe we'll have an idea of where Frisk _went_."

The Brothers fell quiet, staring at the small hole Undyne had dug up.

Undyne struck at the hole yet again, this time feeling her shovel jolted by that familiar sensation.

"Ah. There it is."

And right on queue, Undyne's phone began to ring. Slipping off one of her gloves, she yanked it out of her pocket and answered it with her ear piece.

"Yo, Sera. You ready?"

[ "...No." ]

_"Ha. _Don't sound so _excited_."

[ "I'm not. I never am. I hate doing this." ]

"Yea, yea...Well, look, you know _I _sure appreciate it when you do it for me..."

[ "You only ever need my help when you're trying to _protect _people." ]

"I mean-...OK, but, Lil' Sis here is, ya know...helping people? Probably? In her own way?"

[ "Maybe. She's gotten reckless. Just like I was." ]

"Wellll sure, so that's why you gotta steer her right."

[ "Why don't _you _steer her 'right'? Huh? Maybe I'm fucking sick of pretending I even can..." ]

"...Dang, Mom."

[ "Why can't she follow _your _example? Why do you both keep coming to _me, _like _I _have any answers for you?" ]

"Uh...-"

Damn. Undyne did _not _know what to say to that. Usually this process was all, like, quick and painless.  
The hell happened that night to make Sera get all...weird about this?

[ "Let's get this over with, Undyne," ] Sera groaned.

"Uh, sure. Yea, sure. All right."

"hey, uh...ask her if she saw 'em."

"Now, Sans, this isn't the best time for...-"  
"the kid i mean."

What the...-? SANS, asking a...relevant question? Trying to be RESPONSIBLE?  
Was he, like, BROKEN, or something?

[ "What's that? What are you weird friends saying?" ] came Sera, all annoyed.

"NGAH, nothing!" Undyne gave the two Brothers a hard glare. "They're saying NOTHING and shutting UP now."

Papyrus nodded, and Sans shrugged.

[ "All right. I-...I can see her now." ]  
"You ready to pull her back?"  
[ "I _said '_no.' I'm never _ready_ for this shit." ]  
"Uh-...OK. So, let's...do it anyway?"  
[ "You couldn't even be bothered to _wait? _She's only been dead, what, an hour?" ]  
"Our friend is missing – the one you said _killed _her? Kind of a problem."  
[ "I don't see how _dragging _her back out so soon is going to help with that..." ]  
"It'll help me feel better, at least...It's not like this whole 'res' thing is a guarantee, ya know?"  
[ "You see? That's exactly what I mean, you're not _reckless _with this. You should've _heard her _tonight, should've seen the kinds of things she did. Your sister's becoming unhinged." ]  
"A-All right, so...how do we...re-_hinge _her?"

"Oh-oh-oh, they taught me how to install hinges at my workshop class a couple months back, mayhaps-"  
"don't think it's that kinda hinge, bro."  
"Oh?"

Undyne frowned at the two of them as she shuffled a bit more dirt off of the blue tarp. She carefully peeled the tarp back, revealing a dusty deer skull.

"Look, Mom, let's just bring her back, and you can...get on with...-" Undyne paused.  
[ "Oh? Get on with _what? _With what, exactly?" ]  
"_Ngahhhh,_sorry, I'm sorry, all right?! The hell d'you _want _me to say?!"  
[ "Nothing! Say nothing! I'll bring my ungrateful daughter back and you can get on with whatever _you _do, and you can abandon me again until one of you _needs _me." ]  
"Dude. It ain't _like _that, I call you every week."  
[ "Almost every week." ]  
"_Almost _every week."  
[ "You want to know how often your _sister _calls me?" ]

Sans was yawning. It spread to his brother.

"Uh, n-not...often?" Undyne grumbled, hating being put on the spot. "Look, can we...-?"  
[ "Fine, I get it, it's time to be _useful_..." ]  
"Mom..."

Undyne hated when Sera did that. The guilt tripping and all that.  
Sera wanted to know why her other daughter didn't want to spend time with her?  
Maybe that was why.  
Maybe when you fucking killed yourself and left your kids to fend for themselves, you didn't literally _haunt them from beyond the grave _like you were mad about them not coming across the country for the holidays or something.

Undyne scooped up the deer skull with care. Damn thing had some cracks in it, but it was still doing OK for all the wear and tear. Undyne didn't understand why her sister insisted on keeping this thing _here _of all places – buried in a junk yard? But, hey, it was _her _damn ritual. And yea, at least it was probably pretty safe, right? No one would go looking there for it.

Undyne stared at the deer skull in her gloved hand for a few moments, entranced by it. She could _feel _her sister's presence. Sure, they were only half siblings, but there was still a weird blood-connection there, you know? Through Sera, of course. Probably the same reason they could do any of the weirdo stuff they could do between the two of 'em.

And it was time for the biggest, weirdest thing they were capable of.

In a sudden flash of red flames, the skull bounced from Undyne's hands, falling back into the small hole she'd dug up. A whirlwind kicked up around the group, and Undyne's call with Sera fizzled into a mess of static. Undyne's ponytail whipped around in a frenzy, its red-dyed mange slapping against her own face as she watched a cloud of gray dust burst from the skull's eyes.

Within moments, the dust cloud, carried by the small tornado of air and embers, solidified into the form of Undyne's younger sister: Rachel.

She was in a tattered red dress, with a glowing chest wound that seared itself shut, her newest scar to join the collection. Undyne's scars were much more frequently added and varied – including her missing eye, of course – and she was quite fond of them. Each scar represented not a time she'd failed, but a person she'd saved, the way she saw it. She wore them proudly.

Her sister, meanwhile, seemed to abhor the scant few she possessed.

"_Arrghh_," Rachel snarled down at her own chest, lamenting the clear and apparent red mark that had formed over her heart. The whirlwind around them calmed itself, and the fiery glows of embers flickering through the air faded back into the dim moonlight and cell phone flash lights. "You _took _long enough..."

"...Wowie," Paps uttered, having never witnessed this process properly. "So _that's _how the magic happens..."

Rocking from his toes to his heels, Sans puffed out, "it's how the hot dogs get made..."

There was a weird, rough second of quiet. Rachel and Sans were glaring.  
Ahhh, right, Sans had said he'd met her, apparently...? And she'd pointed a broken bottle at him?

"And you brought _them?!_" Rachel balked, thrusting an irate finger at Undyne's buds. "You brought _him,_" she specified with disgust, calling out Sans, whose expression Undyne couldn't detect, but whose toothy smile was reflective amidst the dark.

"tried tellin' ya lady. had a bad time. didn't ya?"

"_Ohhh_-hohohh..." Rachel's head shook a bit, her jaw hanging loose. She was shuddering from the cold. Had enough heat in her to be pretty pissed, though. "_Fuck_ you."

"Oh, dear..." Poor Paps. Those innocent ears...

"that expression..." Sans said with a small laugh. "that's the face of somebody who _**messed up **_a few times...ain't it?"

"No one asked you!" Rachel snarled at him, steam hissing from her mouth with how cold it was. Walking up to her older sister, Rachel swatted a hand against Undyne's chest, shivering. She was barefoot. Her feet were gonna freeze in this damn weather. "Wh-...U-Undyne," she chattered, rubbing at her arms. "The _ffff-fuck're _these idiots do-.._doing_ here?!"

Undyne sturdied her face. Had to look tough. Keep Lil' Sis in line. Couldn't let her see the soft spots.  
Not anymore.

"Moral support," Undyne pointed out, making her words cold like the snow at their feet. "Besides, it's _their_ friend who killed you, I guess."

Rachel did a double-take at that, then shook her head wildly. Shoving her messy gold hair behind her head, she wrangled her precious deer skull back into its blue tarp and began burying it again.

[ "-...how ungrateful she is?" ] Sera's signal had come back. [ "I make her _undying _and still, she acts like this is normal. Expected. _Owed _to her. The world owes you _nothing, _Rachel. I owe you _nothing._" ]

Undyne made an uncomfortable grunting sound – she was listening to Sera through her headset, so no one else could hear.

Papyrus had waddled his enormous self up behind Rachel, who...looked like some crazy person? Kinda? In a ripped up dress, no shoes, a total mess, standing in a junk yard, burying something in a hole.

"Erh...Might you...need assistance?" See? Papyrus. Real sweetheart. Softie. Made Undyne worry sometimes...

"_Back off!" _Rachel roared, hitting the poor dude with the backside of the shovel.

He stumbled back, falling flat on his ass in some snowy-dirty slush.

"NGAHH!" Undyne roared, stomping toward Rachel.

She wanted to check on Paps. Make sure he was all right.

But she couldn't do that, not in front of Lil' Sis. Would show weakness.

So she marched right up to her sister's back. Undyne ripped the shovel out of Rachel's hand, stabbing it into the dirt. She lashed out, "The fuck is your _problem, _Ray?!"

Rachel just _stared _over her shoulder with this stomach-shriveling _look, _man. Yeesh.  
Made Undyne's hair spike up on her arms, back of her neck.

[ "That right _there_," ] Sera hissed into Undyne's ear. [ "You see what I mean? _Unhinged._" ]

Sans checked on his bro, poking at him with the tip of his toes – he was in _sandals _and shorts,so it was a wonder _he _wasn't freezing his ass off...

"ya good bro?"  
"Ah. Just a scrape. An adequate test of my durability."  
"...you're pretty durable."  
"Aren't I?"

Rachel gawked with disbelief at the brothers. She thought they were idiots, clearly. What did _she _know? She didn't make herself a part of Undyne's life. Had no reason to judge. And man, though, that _look _in her eye, it really _was _like something was _cracked..._

"The hell _happened _to you tonight?" Undyne pleaded.

Rachel looked back down at the pit, and her half-buried deer skull. Rubbing at her arms and shivering...She actually _was _freezing, eh? The cold usually didn't affect Ray that much, but...well, she _had _just come back, heat probably wasn't all there yet. Undyne kinda worked the opposite way – cold she could handle, it was heat that really did her in.

[ "Didn't you warn her? I thought you tried to make her keep away." ]

Sera didn't get answer from Undyne, and Undyne didn't get an answer from Rachel.

So Undyne took Sera's words and said, "Thought I told you to _stay away _from all this."

"I c-c-can say the _same_," Rachel seethed, twisting her head toward Sans.

He winked back at her, grinning with a shrug.

"_Hey_," Undyne grunted, giving Rachel a shove on the arm. Not, ya know, not _too _hard a shove, but, like...had to show dominance, you know? "Forget about those two, _I'm _talking to you! I heard you tried to _abduct my wife _tonight? Huh?" Another **shove. **"Wanna tell me what _that's _about?"

Rachel laughed, her shoulders popping up and falling down.

The winter wind had been pushing her hair around. She shoved it out of her face to look her big sis right in the eye.

Rachel replied, "My boss wanted me to...'recruit' her to our side. We weren't going to _hurt _her...But we'd be making better use of what she knows."

Undyne frowned. She didn't exactly know what that...meant? What 'boss?' Thought Rachel didn't _have _a boss? That she worked for _nobody _but herself? And Alphys, she was a scientist, doing good for the world and all that, why'd it matter who she was even working for, huh?

Trying to get what this was about, what her Lil' Sis would be doing trying to work _against _her like this, Undyne watched Ray pick up the shovel and go back to burying.

Rachel – her little 'Ray,' her estranged half-sister – had tried to _hurt her wife.  
_What the hell?  
_Something _was wrong with her.

"You're lucky you _failed_," Undyne snarled through clenched teeth.

Scooping snow and dirt over her artifact, Rachel scoffed and laughed. "This is what 'lucky' looks like."

"heh. sure is."

And there SANS WAS, saying shit like that like he _knew somethin' _he wasn't going to explain!  
Undyne _hated that, _but nothing she did ever got him to budge...

"Well, ah...you COULD be dead," pointed out Papyrus. "In the forever sense, I mean."

"Aren't I just the _lucky lady?_" Rachel huffed under her breath as she worked.

[ "Ungrateful little...-! You see what I'm dealing with? What my sacrifices has brought?" ]

_Not sure how leaving us all to clean up your crap is such a noble sacrifice..._

Sans poked at his brother's back again. Papyrus finally got up with a groan, dusting off his butt.

"You _are _lucky," insisted Undyne to Rachel, all pointed-like. "What if I hadn't sent Sera to _help _your dumb-ass?"

Rachel sighed loudly, but didn't look up from her burying.

"Lot of help _that _did, I _still _couldn't stop that fucking _demon _you all act like is...some innocent _child._"

At this, Sans shrugged.

Papyrus lifted a finger, citing, "I-I mean...Frisk _is _a child. Aren't they? A Human Child? I remember quite clearly that we'd made quite a thing of this upon meeting them." Paps tugged at his brother's hoodie when no one knew what to say. "Frisk IS a Human? Child? Yes?"

Sans pat his hand delicately on Paps' shoulder.

"sure is, bro."

"A _good _child," Paps insisted, more to himself, apparently. "A _lost _child!"

"we'll find 'em. sooner or later. maybe more like later."

Undyne...wasn't sure what all _that _meant. What either of them were talking about.  
But she _had _seen something pretty creepy stuff back at Valhalla earlier that night...  
The way that kid's eyes had lit up, the way they were acting...-

"You can stick your heads in the sand all you want, just keep me the hell _away _from that thing," said Rachel with a bitterness, her back still at them.

"Dude, Frisk can _protect _themselves," Undyne reminded. "_You _knew that. And you _still _messed with 'em? After I _told _you what they can do?"

_"THEY GOT IN MY WAY,"_ growled Rachel. Dang, she was real salty about this, huh? Sounded like she was warming herself back up, too. All that anger...

"Good! I'm _glad _they got in your way!" Undyne said, annoyed. "You went after my _wife_. Frisk could-...They did that _thing _they do, where they, like..._see _things?" Undyne snapped her finger, pointing it at Rachel as she started thinking about it. _"Yeaaa,_ they sawyou doing a bad, they _made it right._"

"_HA! _Oh, is-...Is _that _what we're calling it? 'Made a right.'" Rachel wiped sweat from her forehead between swings of her shovel, shaking her head. "By fucking _murdering _me, they 'made it right'?"

"better than the left _you_ woulda made," said Sans.

"Oh, are we going over our favorite directions? Because mine is most certainly going straight ahead."

"i know it is, bro. good choice. mine, too. right after not goin' anywhere."

"Guys," Undyne grumbled, even herself getting a little off track by them. She damn well could tell Rachel was hating every minute of listening to them. But maybe this was for the best – her two families mingling? Maybe, like, woulda been better over a barbecue or something...

"If you wanted me to _fail,_" said Rachel between shovels. "Why'd you bother sending Mom in the _first _place?"

"Because _screw you,_you're still my damned sister! I ain't gonna let you _die _just because you're a stubborn...-" Undyne's nose wrinkled and her lips shut tight as she glanced back at Papyrus, who seemed alarmed at her tone. She stopped and sighed and started again, her Soul like an engine ready to tear it up. "I was worried you were gonna get caught, which _almost happened! _I can't send Mom to you if you're stuck in _jail_, can I?"

[ "Maybe we should've just left her. Let her learn the hard way." ]

"So you _didn't _want me to do _my job_," said Rachel with that saucy spite. She was slapping the ground flat. "But you _did _want to bring me _right _the fuck back, so you could yell at me?"

Rachel whipped round, walked up to sis, and pushed the shovel at her.

"I don't _get you, _Dyne," Rachel whispered darkly.

"Fucking _same, _Ray..." Undyne whispered back.

The two stared at each other all angry like. Rachel's hands were shaking. Undyne's teeth were grinding.

Rachel huffed and walked past, grumbling, "You all can stick with Los Muertos, if you want. But they're falling _behind, _guys. The Nightwings, we've got the _real _power around her."

"Dude, you don't even _know those guys,_" Undyne winced, slinging the shovel over her shoulder and following. She gestured the brothers to come along. Calling to Rachel's back, she suggested, "And anyway, why does there have to be _sides _to this? Aren't we all after the same _thing_?"

"_Ha, _isn't everyone always after the same shit when _war _breaks out? Isn't that-...?" Rachel stopped on a dime, swiveled around. There was steam rising up from where her footsteps were. She tossed out her arms at Undyne, saying, "Two sides both want the same thing – that, that to me, that's what starts a war in the first place."

"You're quite a pessimist, aren't you?" stated Paps in one of those rare moments of blunt clarity he could have.

_"Puh-! These_ fucking...-" Rachel's head slanted back a she gave the brothers a disgusted look. "-...weirdos_, _man-babies, that depressing _teacher,_ that creepy as shit _'child,' _your pathetic _coward _of a wife? Even the Din-damned _Mayor _you worship like he's your fucking _dad._ He's the biggest coward of them all, you know that?"

"You shut your _mouth_," Undyne spat out.  
Wasn't liking her family being smack-talked like that.

Rachel's eyes narrowed. "They're all making you _weak, _Dyne. Fucking _weak._"

Undyne's eye was ready to roll out of its socket, and her jaws were shut together with rage.

"Not _this _shit again..." she growled.

"There's losers, and there's winners, Sis." Rachel turned back around and kept stomping off. "Maybe you stopped _caring _about that, but _I _haven't. And I am _not _gonna be on the 'losing' side anymore. I'm fucking _done _with losing. My whole _life _has just been losing, losing, _losing._"

"oh. speakin' of losing..." Here came Sans again, talkin' his shit! "where'd that buddy of yours go? huh? the annoying one...?"

Rachel stopped dead in her tracks. Erh. Well, alive in her tracks.  
_Erh-! _Well, she stopped.

She bared her teeth at him. And he bared his back, only flipped in the opposite direction.

Rachel stuck up her middle finger at him and spun back around. It wasn't a walk so much like what a war drum does? Only with her feet.

"good seeing you, too, lady. nice talk," Sans said to Ray as he walked up to Undyne's side, giving her hip a nudge with his elbow. "heh. family, right?"

"Yea," breathed out Undyne tiredly. That hadn't gone so great...

"Family truly _is _the best," Papyrus wedged in. Not just with words, he literally shoved his massive body between the two of them, bringing them in under his beefy arms. "Don't let her bring you down, Undyne. For you...are an all-star."

"ain't this guy just the coolest?" said Sans behind his brother's back, leaning at Undyne.

"AW THANK YOU! AND YOU ARE! AS WELL!"

"Were you being sarcastic?" Undyne wondered aloud.

Sans' face was the same as it had been for most ofgthis whole deal.

"course not. can't you tell?"

Undyne literally couldn't.

[ "At least you have...a support network," ] Sera said into Undyne's ear. [ "You certainly _try, _Undyne. I'll give you that. I hope _this _was worth all the trouble, though..." ]

With Rachel out of earshot, Undyne leaned her head down a bit, replying to Sera, "Sorry, Mom. I, erh-...I'll get through to her, just not tonight. You know how sore she gets when things don't go her way..."

[ "You used to be the same way..." ]

Undyne laughed gently, grinning with nostalgia.

"Sure did. But, eh, I grew up a little."

[ "You at least let someone look after you." ]

_Yea, well, you sorta forced that choice on me, didn't you?_

_Can't really blame Ray for going her own way..._

[ "You've got grit. Determination. You'll get through to her." ]

"We'll see," Undyne mumbled. Watching her Lil Sis' shadow disappear into the night, Undyne was suddenly feeling much more worried about this than she had for a long time...

Sera -_** disconnected - **_the call.

"Hey, Sans."

"yea, bro?"

"Why does Undyne keep talking to her shoulder? Is there a small person there she's not introducing us to?"

"...something like that."

"It's just that I don't like being left out of the conversation."

"you're always part of the conversation if i'm here."

"Yes. Quite right! Thank you, Sans!"

"any time, paps."

****

**\/\/+0+1+0+/\/\**

_Ralph and Vanellope originate from __**Fix It Felix Jr.**__ and __**Sugar Rush**__, respectively __(Disney)  
Madeline originates from __**Celeste**__ (Matt Makes Games)_  
_Sera originates from __**Life is Strange: Before the Storm**__ (DeckNine Games)_


End file.
